Growing up Royal
by julia12084
Summary: For Ilmare, growing up with the Mirkwood royal family was never easy. From a jealous brother in another world, to her mother who escaped the forest out of shame, and pesky feelings that she has for her best friend, life was always stressful. But when tradgedy strikes, Ilmare flees Mirkwood, leaving behind a broken hearted Prince, and coming back to one who is a stranger to her.
1. Chapter 1

The warm summer sun beat down on the young girl's legs and she sat in the tall, swaying grass in her back yard. The child lazily picked at wild flowers that grew throughout her yard, making a colorful bouquet that she was planning to give to her beloved mother.

The breeze played with her auburn locks, causing a few loose curls to escape from her braid and fall upon the side of her face, resting upon her young, round cheeks.

The girl, seemingly six years of age tucked her rouge tresses behind her pointed ear, something that was strange in the world she resided in. that wasn't the only strange thing about the girl. In reality, she was twelve, yet she bore the face of one that is six.

Her mother often told her that she was special, that all the other children would be so jealous of her, that it would be bad for them. That's why she seldom left her home, and when she did, she held onto her mother with all the strength in her small hands.

The child looked up from her flowers, dark blue eyes wide and curious as someone called out her name from the other side of the yard.

"Ilmare!" her step-brother of fourteen called, in his hand a football. His arm reached back, ready to throw it. "Catch!"

Ilmare threw up her short arms, dropping her bundle of flowers into her lap, but alas, she was too small. The ball went spiraling over her head into the woods that bordered her back yard. She was unconcerned about not being able to catch the ball, her attention going to the pile of flowers on her lap, bottom lip jutting out.

"Zach!" she whined. "You made me mess up my flowers! I was going to give those to mother!"

Zach rolled his eyes at Ilmare, crossing his arms over his chest in a form a teenage rebellion. "You made me lose my ball! I threw it right at you." He motioned towards the thick woods behind the young girl to where his precious ball had been stolen from him. "You're gonna have to get it."

Ilmare's eyebrows furrowed as she scrunched up her fair face. "Mother said I'm not supposed to go into the woods," she said in a small voice.

Zach scoffed, rolling his dark brown eyes. "I go into the woods all the time!" he exclaimed, highly annoyed at his step sister. Their mother adored her, always getting her the nicest things and babying her, all because of the strange growing disorder she had.

"You know," Zach said. "You're not special just because you have those dumb pointy ears and you age funny and mom gave you that stupid necklace." He sneered at the young girl.

Ilmare's hand immediately reached towards the small charm upon her neck. She had it for as long as she could remember. Her mother said it was from where she used to live, that it was a gem of pure starlight. Ilmare loved that description, using it as often as she could. She looked at the clear, teardrop shaped stone in her palm, wrapped intractably with almost white silver.

"You know what?" said Zach, using his last card. "I think you're scarred!"

Ilmare's jaw dropped and she stood from the ground, the flowers falling back into the sea of grass. She crossed her arms over her chest and stomped her foot in dainty dismay. "I am not!"

Zach motioned a hand towards the tree line. "Then prove it!" he smirked as her arms fell limply to the side as she eyed the woods nervously.

Zach didn't care that he was only two years her senior. She still acted like a six year old. He blamed their mother for it. She coddled her. She loved her daughter more than she loved her husband. Even at a young age, Zach could see that she didn't love their father as he loved her. Though Zach would never admit it, he felt sad for his father because of this.

Zach also wasn't very fond of Ilmare. She never paid attention to him until her teased her. When he first found out that he was to have a sibling, he was excited, but ever since he met the girl, she practically ignored him until he provoked her. She only ever paid attention to her mother.

Ilmare blinked her big eyes a couple times. "Are you sure mother would be okay with this?" she squeaked.

_To hell with mother,_ Zach thought bitterly, but said; "I think she would _want _you to go," he tricked her. "You know, I hear that there is a castle in there." It was so easy to fool a six- well, technically twelve- year old.

He watched as her eyes shone in happiness. She loved anything to do with princesses and he knew that, and used it to his advantage.

"I guess it won't be too bad then." Ilmare said as she started walking towards the tree, a smile upon her small, pink lips.

Zach watched satisfied as she disappeared into the shadows of the trees in pursuit of his ball.

"And don't come back," he murmured to himself, meaning it with his whole being, waltzing happily back inside his home.

…

"Find the ball," Ilmare said to herself, her keen eyes scanning the forest floor. She hadn't ventured far in until she found it under a scraggily bush, void of anything green.

She smirked happily to herself as she gathered the ball in her short arms. _See, I am not afraid!_

She strolled happily along back to her brother, ready to prove that she could do anything he could, but only better.

Ilmare thought she only traveled a short distance, but she figured she estimated wrong, for it seemed like a much longer walk back. After a couple of minutes of walking, she paused in thought.

_I must of taken a wrong path,_ she thought, retracing her steps, looking for the sad bush that had no leaves, only, even with her sharp eyes, she could not locate it. Ilmare's nose wrinkled in concentration, trying to recall other landmarks that she could remember, but none came to mind.

She let out a small sigh, but continued walking, sure that she would eventually find her way home. The young girl only walked a few feet before her long hair was snagged in a sharp branch, causing her call out in slight pain. She dropped the ball and tried to coax her hair out of the tangle.

After a few moments of her unskilled fingers fiddling with the branch, her hair was frees, but her braid fell out, her hair falling halfway down her back. She never really cut it. Her mother said that where she came from, a women's hair should be long. So Ilmare never wanted it an inch shorter than it had to be.

The little girl reached down for the ball, only to find that it was gone.

_How strange_, she thought. _ Perhaps I kicked it by mistake._

She studied the ground a few moments longer before a large bug crawled over her foot. Ilmare let out a high pitch shriek and jumped back.

_I hate bugs!_ She felt her eyes stinging with tears, but Ilmare took a deep breath and calmed herself.

_What does Maria do when she is scared?_ She thought back to her favorite story of **The Sound of Music.**_ She sings!_

Ilmare took a couple of tentative steps before she began walking, singing quietly to herself. "Rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens…" the young girl soon found herself grinning as she continued with the familiar tune.

She began wandering, not really sure where she was, but it didn't matter! For her favorite things were there to comfort her.

Ilmare giggled to herself as she danced through the woods, twirling around towering trees, her skirt fanning out around her.

"And then I don't feel," Ilmare paused the grand finale as she saw what she stumbled upon. Through the gaps of the trees, she saw a clear pool with a beautiful bridge above it, flowers of every sort and kinds she had never seen before grew upon its banks.

Ilmare's eyes grew in wonder as she found herself gravitating towards toward the garden. She skillfully slipped through the gaps in the trees until she stood on the edge of the water, watching small fish dart around close to the surface.

Ilmare grinned excitedly and dropped to her knees, dipped a small hand into the water. She shivered slightly as her bare flesh came in contact with the cold liquid. The child repeated this process a few times before a voice she didn't recognize sounded behind her, causing Ilmare to jump.

"Why are you in my Naneths' garden?"

Ilmare's head whipped around, facing a young boy with almost white blond hair and bright blue eyes. He appeared to be the same age as Ilmare.

The young girl thought for a moment, before a thought crossed her mind. "You speak Sindarin? My mother said that only certain people can speak it." Ilmare's mother had taught it to her from a young age, saying that it was important that she learned the culture of her people. She had never known anyone else to speak it.

The boy looked at her curiously. "Everyone here can speak it." He said as though it were obvious. "But why _are_ you here?"

Ilmare shrugged her small shoulders. "I got lost and I somehow found this place, I think it's very beautiful." She said, casting a sweeping look at her surroundings.

The boy nodded proudly. "My mother has the most beautiful garden in all of Greenwood."

Ilmare nodded enthusiastically (Though not knowing what Greenwood was), looking at the boy again, this time, noticing his ears. Her small mouth formed an 'o' of surprise.

"Your ears are like mine!" she exclaimed excitedly, brushing back her hair as to prove her point.

The boy eyes Ilmare strangely. _What an odd elfling. _He thought. _She seemed astonished by the most normal things._

"How old are you?" Ilmare asked, standing up, crossing her arms behind her back.

"Thirteen!" said the boy happily.

Ilmare's grin grew wider if possible. "I am twelve. What is your name?"

"Legolas," he said, giving a small smile to the young elleth. Elflings were rare, and Legolas was mightily happy to meet one his age. "And you are?"

"Ilmare." The girl said, deciding very quickly that she liked this boy. She looked at him with hopeful eyes. "Will you be my friend?" The word friend was strange and exotic for her, never having a real one before, only her imaginary ones.

Legolas nodded rapidly, happy to have met a friend his age. Everyone else in Greenwood was already of age. The boy pointed to the center of the garden. "Will you help me find my mother? We are playing hide and seek."

Her dark blue eyes glittered. "Sounds like fun!"

Legolas waved a hand towards the center of the garden, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Well, come on then!"

The two kids ran side by side as fast as their short legs could carry them. Legolas was a tad bit faster than Ilmare, making the girl work a bit harder to keep pace with him.

Legolas cupped a hand around his mouth and called out. "Naneth! Naneth, come out now!"

At the young boy's voice, the most beautiful woman Ilmare had even seen stepped out from behind a thick trunk of a towering tree. Her hair was a few shades darker than Legolas', her skin flawless and fair. Her slim figure was garbed in flowing white robe, the sleeves hanging down almost to the ground. Ilmare watched her in wonder as she smiled at her son.

"Legolas, you know that's not how you play the game," she scolded lightly, but with love in her eyes. Her gaze then fell upon Ilmare, her brows rising in question. "My son, who is this?"

Legolas turned to the young girl beside him. "This is Ilmare," he explained. "She was by the fish pond. I believe she is lost."

_Ilmare,_ thought his mother. _The guardian spirit of the stars._ She studied the child, seeing the stone upon her neck, a knowing smile upon her lips. _She is rightly named. She will be a beautiful elleth._

The woman knelt in front of Ilmare, looking at her with kind, green eyes. "Where have you come from, my child?"

Ilmare shifted nervously, looking at the fair women in front of her. "I went into the woods to find our ball, but I got lost."

The women studied the child's eyes, seeing no lie in them. The girl was pure of heart. "Where are your parents?"

Ilmare opened her mouth, but shut it abruptly, lost in thought._ Mother will be so mad at me! _She thought. _She and father will be so mad at me that they will never want to see me again!_ The thought saddened her greatly. Ilmare's young mind got the better of her, now firmly believing that her parents wouldn't want her anymore.

"They do not like me." Ilmare said, her bottom lip jutting out. "They do not love me anymore." She felt tears pricking at her eyes again.

The women looked at the child with pity, seeing how sad she was. She placed a comforting hand upon her small shoulder. "It will be alright, Ilmare. My name is Melian."

Ilmare gave her a watery smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady." She said, reciting the phrase her mother etched into her mind.

Melian smiled at the young girl's manners, turning to Legolas by her side. "How would you like for Ilmare to live with us?"

Legolas grinned widely. "It would be fun!"

Melian watched as Ilmare's mood turned from dark, to excited. The small girl turned to her. "You would really let me do that?" she exclaimed, pleased to have met the two.

Melian gave a soft nod, standing and taking hold of Ilmare's small hand. She turned to her son. "Come along, Legolas. "Let us go back home."

Melian gently guided Ilmare along, watching with amusement as the child took in every sight with wide eyes.

Ilmare looked down at the ground and jumped with fright when a frog hopped onto their path. A small gasp escaped her lips as she hid her face in Lady Melian's skirts, holding onto her leg tight. Ilmare hated frogs almost as much as she loathed bugs.

Legolas, nothing his new friend's discomfort, jumped to the rescue.

"Don't worry Ilmare!" he cried, chasing the frog away. The young girl peaked out of the folds of the dress to make sure that the pest was in fact, gone. She let out a small sigh of relief.

"Thank you." She breathed.

Legolas crossed his arms over his chest proudly. "I am training to be a warrior!" he explained. "I must always protect my people."

Ilmare tilted her head in confusion at his usage of words. "My people?" she asked, curious.

Melian looked down upon Ilmare, smiling softly. "Yes, child. Legolas is a prince."

Ilmare's eyes grew large as she looked at the boy in a new light. She blinked a few times before looking up a Melian. "If Legolas is a prince… that means you are a queen!"

"Wow," Ilmare breathed as they continued to walk.

The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon, turning the green trees shade of pink, red and yellow. It was truly a beautiful sight.

Melian gave a small nod to the guards posted outside the outer gates as she walked in breezily with the two children. The two elves watched Ilmare curiously, wondering who she was and why she was with the royal family. Ilmare didn't notice their stares. She was captured by the grandness of the halls around her.

The roof was tall and rounded bridges of stone and roots criss-crossing across the air. Wood elves wandered about, going on their daily business, some of them pausing and bowing in respect to their queen, whom they all adored.

Ilmare took in every detail she could before they stopped in front of a hall with a tall, sweeping doorframe detailed with gold and green. There was a dark haired elf positioned in front of it and immediately opened the door, bowing in respect.

Ilmare was going to say thank-you to the kind person, but Lady Melian and Legolas said nothing, so she followed suit, not wanting to say anything wrong and embarrass herself.

The hall was dimly lit, with a few doors on the left and right. It was small and cozy. Beautiful painting decked the walls of fair women and courageous men or of paintings of the trees and rivers that resided in the woods.

Melian stopped in front of a tall door towards the end of the hall and looked towards Ilmare.

"This will be your room, young one." She lightly pushed open the door, revealing a lavish room with a huge bed, a writing desk, wardrobe, bookshelves, and even a small washroom connected to it.

Ilmare almost couldn't believe that this room was for her. "Th-thank you, Lady Melian." She said, blinking a few times, trying to keep herself awake. The child was very weary.

Melian noticed this and pointed towards the bed. "Go rest now. If you need anything, Legolas' room is right across from yours." She smiled sweetly at the young girl. "Ollo vae," (Sweet dreams)

The queen shut the door once she was sure Ilmare was comfortable in her bed. She turned towards her son. "It is time that you got to bed as well."

Legolas pouted, but couldn't contain the yawn that escaped his lips. "Okay…" he said in defeat, easily giving in and quickly getting ready for bed.

"Tell ada I said goodnight," he whispered to his mother as she tucked him in.

Melian felt a pang of worry at the thought of her husband, worried of what he would say to Ilmare. She hoped that he would trust the young child. She had not given them any reason to believe otherwise, but her mate was wary of strangers, willing to go to any ends to protect his family and people.

"Of course, Legolas," she said softly as she planted a soft kiss upon his brow. The boy soon drifted off to sleep.

Melian left slowly and went to her husband's study, where she knew he would be. She lightly pushed on the door, opening it without a sound. When her husband didn't look up from the papers he was poring over, Melian softly tapped her knuckles on the door.

"Thranduil?"

The elven king looked up from the documents, his look of concentration turning into one of adoration when he laid his eyes upon his beloved wife. He stood from his desk and crossed the room to her in a couple of swift strides.

"Melian," he said, holding her fair face in his hands, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, lips barely brushing her skin. He peered behind her, looking for his son whom always came in before he retired for the night. "Where is Legolas?"

"He went to bed early, but told me to tell you good night." Melian explained. "He had… a rather _interesting _day," she shuffled towards her husband's desk, flipping through a couple of papers, studying letters from the other realms, trades, and so on.

Thranduil furrowed his brows. "What was so interesting?"

Melian sighed, placing the papers back down, thinking of how to tell her mate of Ilmare. She grasped his hands in her own, looking into his eyes. "There was a young elfling in my garden today; an elleth. The same age as Legolas."

Thranduil's grip tightened around Melian's small hands. "Did she try to do anything to hurt you and Legolas?" A wave of protectiveness washed over the king.

Melian rapidly shook her head. "No! Far from it. She was lost, her family abandoned her," well, that's what she understood from what the child told her. "She is such a small thing and gets along so well with Legolas…"

The king raised an eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?" Thranduil questioned.

Melian exhaled loudly. "My love, I want her to stay here. With us. Legolas will need a friend his age."

Thranduil dropped his wife's hands and rubbed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. So many possibilities rushed through his mind. What if she had been placed here for some diabolical reason? What if the girl would try to hurt Legolas, or worked for someone who did.

Melian took a step closer to her husband, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Thranduil, I know what you are thinking. The child has nothing but light in her heart. I believe she will be a great healer! She could train with ours."

"Where is the child now?" the king asked, an edge in his voice.

"In our hall," the queen said reluctantly. "Asleep in one of the unused rooms." She saw a flash of worry in her mate's eyes. "There is nothing she could do, even if she wanted to. There are no windows in her room, and she would have to get past countless guards to let anyone into the caves."

Thranduil relaxed slightly, giving his wife some ease of mind. "Fine." He said curtly. He looked towards his wife with large, pleading eyes. "Just please, be careful."

Melian grinned widely. "Of course, my love."

The queen couldn't wipe the smirk off her lips until she was asleep.

…

In Ilmare's short lifespan, she couldn't recall ever sleeping so well. She buried her face into the cloud like pillows, holding on to the last shreds of her dreams. She opened one blue eye and peered around her, making sure that she really was there. She hauled herself up, giving a mighty yawn and stretching her small limbs. Ilmare blinked the sleep out of her eyes and scratched the back of her head. She tossed the covers off her legs and slid out of bed, wiggling her toes once they made contact with the cool stone floor.

She wandered towards the small desk, delighted to find the heaps of papers and writing utensil that decorated it. Ilmare struggled into the tall chair, sitting upon her knees so that she could see over the desk. Ilmare grabbed a thick piece of paper, a quill, and a jar of jet black ink. She struggled for a moment, working the cap off, but the girl eventually managed.

Ilmare dipped the nib of the quill into the ink and got to work sketching. The young girl was skilled with art, always making her mother proud. Ilmare was exceptional for twelve, and in fact, was more skilled with a pencil than most grown people.

She began making the shapes of flowers up and down the page with graceful, twisting vines and curving leaves. Ilmare didn't look up from her work until there was a small knock on the door. The girl looked over her shoulder and said, "Come in!" before turning back to the page, adding the finishing touches.

Ilmare looked at her ink-stained hands, wiping them on the already dirty skirt. She hopped off the chair and turned towards the woman who had entered her room, her slender arms full of dresses.

Ilmare studied her thoughtfully, taking in her pretty face, pointed nose, long, dark hair, and her blue eyes that sparkled in the light.

The elleth nodded respectfully before saying. "You are Ilmare, correct?" her voice was soft and clear.

The girl nodded. "Yes, that is me. What is your name?"

The woman looked surprised at the question, stumbling over her tongue before answering. "Aerin."

Ilmare grinned widely. "It is very nice to meet you, Lady Aerin."

The elleth smiled sincerely. "The same goes to you, my child." Aerin lowered the bundles of clothes onto the messy bed. "The queen sent to have some dresses made up for you and delivered."

Ilmare's dark blue eyes moved from the lovely elleth before her to the variety of dresses folded upon her bed.

"Which one would you like to wear?" Aerin asked, smiling fondly at the girl.

Ilmare eyed the pile, searching for a color that jumped out. She pointed at a sky blue fabric. "That one, please!"

Aerin picked through the other dresses until she had Ilmare's desired gown in her hands. The elleth unfolded it, showing the full detail to Ilmare, who gasped at its beauty.

The fabric shone in the light, gold details sparkling. At the waist, was a white belt. The sleeves tightened at the forearm, and then spread out to the wrist.

"This is for me?" Ilmare whispered in disbelief. _It looks like a dress for a princess._

Aerin chuckled at the girl's bewildered expression. "Yes, Ilmare. It is. As well as the rest of them," she gestured to the rest of the gowns on her bed.

"Wow," breathed the girl. She turned to the woman beside her. "Will you help me put it on, please?"

"Of course," said Aerin. "That is why I am here."

First, Ilmare was put into a thin under dress. It was silky and soft against her skin. Then, Aerin pulled the blue dress over her head, tying the laces in the back for Ilmare, for the girl wouldn't be able to do it.

Ilmare examined the dress, very happy with how it looked on her. It didn't quite touch the floor, but it stopped at about her ankles, showing her bare feet. She furrowed her brows, turning to the woman to ask about it, but Aerin was one step ahead of her. She held two black slippers in her hands.

Ilmare impatiently tugged the thin shoes upon her feet, eager to go see and play with Legolas again. She started towards the door, only to have Aerin pick her up by her waist and put her in front of the vanity desk in the corner of her room.

"Not yet, you don't," she said with amusement in her voice. Aerin already liked this elfling very much and was happy to be posted as her handmaiden.

Ilmare pouted up at the elleth, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why not?"

Aerin chuckled and tugged at a frizzy strand of her auburn hair, showing it to the girl. "Your hair is very messy. We can't have you going out and about like that."

Ilmare looked at her reflection in the mirror, cringing at her hair. It was very bad. "Oh. Okay."

Aerin gracefully picked up a hair brush from the table and ran it through her tangled tresses. Ilmare was very pleased that Aerin managed to make it painless. Not once did she pull her hair.

"Would you like me to braid it?" Aerin asked once she was sure Ilmare's hair was knot-free.

"Yes, please." Answered the young girl politely.

Aerin's nimble fingers got to work, manipulating Ilmare's hair into simple braids. It didn't take her more than a minute, and for that, Ilmare was thankful. She didn't think that she could sit still for another moment.

"There," said Aerin, placing her hands upon her hips. "All done!"

The moment those words left her lips, Ilmare sprang out of the chair. "Thank you very much, Lady Aerin."

Aerin laughed at the young girl's excited behavior. "It was my pleasure. Now, I am to take you to the Lady Melian. She wishes for you to meet her and Legolas to break your fast."

Ilmare's hands went to her stomach. Now that she mentioned it, she was rather hungry. Ilmare smiled shyly at Aerin. "Thank you."

And with that, Ilmare was taken to meet her new found friend and Lady Melian.


	2. Chapter 2

Ilmare trailed behind Aerin as she led her through the crowded hallways, her small legs worked hard to keep up with the elleths long strides.

"How are you liking the Greenwood, young one?" asked Aerin as they walked, slowing her pace so that Ilmare could keep up.

Ilmare tore her eyes off her surroundings to look up at the elleth, grinning widely. "I am enjoying it very much, thank you." She said, returning her attentions to the elaborate halls around her. "I am very pleased to be here."

Aerin smirked at the child as they stopped at the dining hall door. "And for that, I am glad." She turned her gaze towards the door before continuing. "Now, I do believe the Lady Melian and her son are awaiting your arrival." The elleth lightly pushed on the door, opening it to a small room.

There was a long, rectangular table in the middle of the room, foods of all sorts spread across its surface. Legolas and Melian were sitting across from each other, pausing their conversations when Ilmare entered, giving smiles of welcome.

"Good morning, Ilmare," said Melian kindly, her eyes grinning, she turned to Aerin and nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, Aerin. You are dismissed."

The elleth bowed respectfully and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind in her wake.

Ilmare stood by herself, shifting awkwardly in the silence. She lowered her large eyes to her feet, suddenly felt very shy, but she didn't know why.

Melian noticed the girls discomfort and gave her an encouraging smile. "Come, my dear. You can sit next to me," she patted an empty seat beside her.

Ilmare scrambled towards Melian at her word, quickly plopping herself into the chair, smiling kindly at Legolas, who returned it with equal warmth.

"Hi, Ilmare," the young prince said, waving a berry stained hand towards her.

"Hello, Legolas," she said, giving a dainty wave of her own

Melian began loading Ilmare's plate with firm grapes, bright red apples, and freshly baked bread.

"How did you sleep last night?" the queen asked as she slid the plate in front of Ilmare.

"Very well, thank you." The girl answered before taking a huge bite of the apple, the sweet juices flooding her mouth and dripping off her chin. Ilmare did not pay the mess she was making any heed, for she was too hungry, and apples were her favorite food.

Melian chuckled at the girl, whose cheeks were stuffed and rounded with the fruit. She was crunching happily, lips pursed in a smile. The queen picked up a napkin and wiped the sticky mess off Ilmare's chin.

"I would assume that you like it?" she laughed as Ilmare continued to quickly consume the food.

Ilmare swallowed her mouthful before answering. "Yes, apples are my favorite."

Legolas' eyes brightened at this, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Mine too!"

Melian smiled fondly at her son before turning back to Ilmare. "Yes, Legolas favors the green ones."

Ilmare licked her lips. "I like the red ones." She said as she finished the apple right down to the core, picking pieces of the inside of the bread out of the crust and popping them into her mouth.

They ate a little while longer, making small talk. Legolas began to get to know Ilmare better, beginning to like the girl more and more.

But, the more Melian looked at the girl, the more familiar she seemed, at yet, she couldn't place a finger on it. It was her eyes, she knew it. Ilmare's eyes reminded her of a friend from long ago…

_No,_ Melian shook herself. _It is not possible. She would of never treated anyone like this._

Melian cleared those thoughts from her mind and turned to Ilmare. "Starting tomorrow, you will be beginning studies with Legolas. Aerin will retrieve you in the mornings and bring you to your tutor."

_School?_ Ilmare thought. _Well, I guess that's better than doing nothing. _"What will I be learning?"

Melian began to tick off her fingers. "History, geography, languages, writing, and the arts." She paused. "Once you reach the age of twenty, you will choose your job. Legolas already wishes to become a warrior, but you have time to choose…"

Ilmare thought for a moment. She did have eight years… but at home, she did always want to be a doctor. She liked helping people. It made her feel good inside. She used to pretend she was healing her dolls back at home, putting band-aids over fake skinned knees or giving medicine if one of them had come down with a fever.

"Do you have any idea of what interests you?" Melian began slowly, even if she already knew. "There's scholars, musicians, healers…" she drifted off, leaving it at that. The queen had a small amount of foresight. Not as much to see visions, but enough to have good instincts about others.

Ilmare looked at her, eyes wide in interest. "Maybe a healer…" she said, trying to sound nonchalant, but unable to keep the note of excitement out of her voice.

Melian smirked at the girl, watching her wiggle in her seat. Legolas was doing the same. The young elves couldn't stay still for very long.

"Legolas," said the queen, catching the boy's attention. "Why don't you show Ilmare around to your favorite places? Introduce her to some of the others in the Greenwood."

Legolas perked up at this, excited to be given a task. "Yes, naneth." He slid off of his chair and motioned to Ilmare to follow him. "Come on!"

The young girl hopped of her seat and hurried to Legolas' side as he led her out of the dining room into the halls.

"Where are we going?" asked Ilmare after a bit of traveling.

"The kitchens!" answered Legolas, his eyes bright.

Ilmare pouted her lips and furrowed her brows in confusion. "But why? We just ate."

Legolas rolled his eyes, as if the answer was obvious. "The head cook _always _gives me sweet-cakes when I ask. He makes the best ones in all of Middle Earth! I bet he will give some to you too."

"Good morning, young prince!" called out an elf as they passed.

Legolas stopped walking, causing Ilmare to almost crash into his back. The boy turned and gave a nod of respect. "Good morning!" he replied and continued walking. He sighed loudly once they were out of earshot. "I hate having to be so polite all the time. It's so _boring_! I even have to take studies for it."

Ilmare giggled at his frustration. "Well, you're the prince! Can't you just say that you won't do this anymore?"

"Well," began Legolas sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not exactly a prince yet…"

"What do you mean?" questioned Ilmare, noting the bit of color that flushed to his cheeks and tips of his ears.

"I am not a _crowned _prince yet, so I do not have much authority. I will, however, once I come of age." He explained.

"Then if you're not a prince, that makes you a…" Ilmare paused in thought, tapping her chin with her index finger. "Oh! A prince-_ling!_" she exclaimed.

Legolas narrowed his eyes, not fond of that term. "Maybe…" he grumbled under his breath.

Ilmare smirked, happy of the reaction she was getting out of him. "Oh, don't be mad at me, my dear princeling." She quipped sarcastically.

"Ha ha," Legolas said without humor. "Very funny. I could probably get you thrown into the dungeons you know,"

"No you can't!" stated Ilmare, snickering quietly.

Legolas sighed loudly as they reached the doors to the kitchen, opening it a crack and peering around to make sure it was clear.

"Avolozir!" hissed Legolas quietly, stepping slipping inside with Ilmare at his wake. "Avolozir, are you here?"

Ilmare watched as a dark haired elf looked up from where he was chopping vegetables with a sharp knife. I friendly smile graced his lips as he saw Legolas.

"Hello, prince Legolas," he said, wiping his hands on his trousers, grinning widely. He was very tall, with warm brown eyes and a few strands of his hair loose from the low ponytail that cascaded down his back. His eyes moved from Legolas to Ilmare, looking at her with interest.

"I do not believe we have met," he said, lowering down to eye level with the girl, suddenly making Ilmare feel very shy. "My name is Avolozir. What is yours?"

Ilmare tore her gaze from her feet to look the elf in the eye, feeling a bit better when she saw the kindness within his gaze. "Ilmare." She replied softly.

"It is nice to meet you, Ilmare." He didn't mention that he had wanted to catch a glimpse of the mysterious elfling that the queen brought into the caves the day before. Everyone was talking about her, wondering what the king would do, or if she was a friend of foe.

Avolozir shook these thoughts out of his head, turning towards Legolas again, an amused smirk upon his face. "I am guessing that you might want a sweet-cake, am I correct, Prince?"

Legolas nodded vigorously. "Please?" he paused, and then pointed towards the girl. "And one for Ilmare, if you can."

"Have you had breakfast yet?" the older elf asked as he stood. "I don't want to face your naneths wrath if I spoil a meal."

"We have eaten already." Said Legolas, eager for the baked good.

Avolozir bowed low. "Then your wish is my command." He strode over to a tall table and opened a small box, pulled out two thin, glazed cakes. He handed them over to the two elflings.

The sweet smell reached Ilmare's nose before she took it in her hand. The sugary glaze was sticky on her small fingers.

"Try them," Avolozir urged. "I wish to know what you think."

Legolas wasted no time taking a monstrous bite out of the pastry, while Ilmare took a small nibble out of the corner. It was very sweet, but not too much to be overwhelming. The cake was soft and moist, with a small amount of lemon flavoring.

Avolozir watched Ilmare's face carefully. "Well? What do you think?"

Ilmare swallowed before answering, licking a hint of glaze off of her lips. "It is wonderful!"

The cook smirked proudly as she took another dainty bite, finishing the treat a bit after Legolas.

The young prince grinned at Avolozir, licking the last remnants of the sticky glaze off of his fingers. "Thank you, Avolozir! It was delicious!"

Ilmare nodded in agreement.

The elf looked at the two young ones happily. "I am glad you enjoyed it. Come back anytime." He paused. "Oh, and Ilmare," the young girl turned to him right before she was about to walk out the door. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

Ilmare blushed involuntarily. "You too!" she said, and followed Legolas back into the halls.

"Didn't I tell you he is the best?" said Legolas proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ilmare nodded. "Yes, my dear princeling. You are correct."

Legolas groaned, tossing his head back, causing Ilmare to giggle into her hand.

"I will get a name for you too!" the prince vowed.

"Oh yeah?" taunted Ilmare. "Like what?"

Legolas opened his mouth to reply, but shut it abruptly, lost in thought. "I do not know yet."

Ilmare laughed and playfully patted his head. "Perhaps one day you will think of it!"

Legolas narrowed his eyes down at the small girl. She was tiny even in elvish standards, and that's how Legolas thought of the perfect name for her. "Perhaps one day I will… _thinnas._"

Ilmare paused, translating it in her head, before her jaw dropped and she stubbornly placed her hands on her hips. "Shortness?" she cried. "I'm not that much smaller than you!"

Legolas chuckled. He was a couple inches taller than her and had the feeling he would always be. "I am still taller!"

Ilmare stood up on her toes, so she was the smallest bit taller. "Now I am!"

"Hey!" Legolas cried, putting his hands on her shoulders and pushing her back on her feet. "That's cheating!"

Ilmare simply giggled and put her hands behind her back. "Now where will we go?"

"Hmm," Legolas hummed as he thought, tapping his toes on the ground. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "I know! You can meet my ada!"

Ilmare nodded and grinned. She had not met his father yet. "Okay! That sounds nice."

Legolas bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, starting forward. "Let's go then!" he said as he took off.

Ilmare's eyes widened as she realized that if she didn't hurry, she was going to be left behind. She sprinted after Legolas, weaving between the legs of older elves along with the prince, earning a few surprised glances as they passed by.

They were both out of breath when they reached the entrance of the throne room.

Legolas strode up to a guard stationed at the door. "Is my ada in here?" he asked, taking deep breaths.

The guard's eyes shifted to Ilmare, but the girl didn't notice. She was too busy looking at her surroundings. The guard watched her curiously for a moment, wondering what the king was so worried about. He put the guards on high alert because of this elfling? She looked like she could do no harm, even if she tried.

The guard turned back to Legolas and gave a curt nod. "Yes, young prince." He pushed open the heavy doors and moved to let the two elflings in. Legolas hurried in, eager to see his father, but Ilmare walked through the entrance slowly, looking up at the guard with wide, dark blue eyes.

"Thank you," she said before she was inside fully.

The guard watched as she caught up with Legolas, becoming more confused at king Thranduil's decisions every moment. He shook his head and shut the door.

Ilmare couldn't keep the awed gasp from escaping her lips as she took in the spacious room. It was high, from the throne the king could watch over the main halls of Greenwood. The throne itself was carved in the likeliness of antlers, and sat high and proud. Ilmare walked up the stairs leading to where the throne sat, tentatively. She glanced shyly at the two guard positioned on either side of the stair case, suddenly feeling very small.

Thranduil was speaking to one of his advisors when he saw his son jog up the stairs.

"Ada!" cried Legolas waving towards his father, who smiled.

Thranduil stood from his throne and walked towards Legolas, kneeling down in front of his son. "Legolas!" he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He studied his small face and noticed the crumbs on the corner of his lip. "Were you in the kitchens again?"

Legolas nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Thranduil chuckled. "I'm guessing Avolozir gave you some of his cakes then?"

"Yes, ada." Replied Legolas. "And Ilmare too." He said, turning over his shoulder and looking towards the small girl who stood silently with her hands tucked behind her back. When she saw the king looking over to her, she scampered over to Legolas' side.

Thranduil stood to his full height when he saw the girl coming to them. He watched as Ilmare curtsied respectfully.

"_Suilad,_" said Ilmare in Sindarin. "I am Ilmare."

Thranduil looked down at her over the bridge of his nose, his lip curling slightly. The girl did look harmless, but a king could never be too careful when it comes to protecting his people. "Hello," he responded simply and returned his attention back to his son.

Ilmare furrowed her brows in confusion. Did she say something wrong? No… _Suilad_ meant greetings, she was sure of it. Did she curtsy improperly? Did she make the wrong kind of eye contact? She thought like this for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out what she did wrong in that short span of time. She didn't pay much attention to the conversation that the father and son were having until Legolas tugged on her wrist, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Come on, Ilmare!" he urged. "We must go!"

Ilmare blinked a couple of times, refocusing her mind.

"Goodbye, Ada!" said Legolas waving.

Ilmare bowed her head this time in farewell, wary of curtsies now. She let Legolas lead her out of the throne room, but she felt the king's heated gaze on her back the entire time, until the doors shut behind them.

Ilmare let out a deep breath, her small body relaxing now that she was away from the king. She looked towards Legolas, a look of content upon his face. She decided not to tell him of her feelings towards his father, knowing it wouldn't end well.

Legolas spent the rest of the day showing her through the halls and a bit of the forest. She tried her best to enjoy it, but the king was always in the back of her mind, nagging and annoying her for the rest of the day.

Ilmare was even quiet at dinner, paying attention to her bowl of soup more than the happenings around her. The king was there, and Ilmare focused all her attention on not doing anything wrong. She only spoke when Melian asked her something. The queen could see something was off with the girl, and could only assume that it was the fault of her mate.

Ilmare said a friendly goodnight to the royal family and then went to her room, surprised to find Aerin there.

"Oh," said Ilmare, closing the door behind her. "Hello, lady Aerin."

Aerin chuckled, hardly thinking herself as a _lady_. She was a simple servant, and fine with it. "Hello, young one. How was your day?"

Ilmare shifted her weight slightly, showing slight discomfort. "Very good, thanks."

Aerin raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced at her answer, but she knew the girl would open up when she felt like she should. The elf would not pry.

Aerin gestured towards the washroom. "I have drawn a bath for you before you go to bed."

Ilmare could faintly smell the scents of many different soaps wafting from the bath. "Thank you," Ilmare said.

Aerin helped her undress and then into the warm water of the tub. She handed Ilmare soaps as they spoke. "So, what was the most interesting part of the day?"

Ilmare was scrubbing her arms with a small bar of soap, enjoying the scent of lavender that it gave off. "Well," the girl said, beginning to scrub her other arm. "We went into the kitchens, and Legolas introduced me to Avolozir."

Aerin smiled. "He is very kind, is he not? Did he give you some of his cakes? Everyone in Greenwood loves them."

Ilmare nodded her head, rinsing her arms with water, watching the bubbles float on top of the water. "They were very good. I could eat one hundred of them!" she said, throwing in arms in the air for emphasis, sending a few droplets of water of Aerin's skirt. "Oh! Sorry."

"It is only water, my dear. It will dry." The elleth picked a bottle of a hair scrub off the counter. "Would you like me to help you with your hair?"

Ilmare nodded. "Yes, please."

Aerin kneeled down behind Ilmare, grabbing a small water jug and filling it from the bath. Then, poured it upon Ilmare's head, making the girls auburn hair a few shades darker. She poured the scrub into the palm of her hand and began working it into Ilmare's hair.

Ilmare tilted her head back, enjoying the feeling of Aerin's fingers massaging her scalp. They sat in silence for a minute, before Ilmare spoke up, asking the question that had been nagging her mind almost all day.

"Aerin, why does the king dislike me?"

Ilmare felt her stop scrubbing for a moment, but quickly began working her fingers through her thick hair again.

"Why would you think that?" asked Aerin. She was surprised by her question, not expecting anything like that from her.

Ilmare shifted in the tub, disturbing the water. "Well, when I met him today, he looked at me strangely… and when he spoke, it was not like he spoke to Legolas…"

Aerin sighed. "It is not that he dislikes you, Ilmare. He is a king, and wants to protect his people."

Ilmare was silent for a moment before continuing in a small voice. "Protect them from me?"

Aerin's eyes widened. "No! Not like that. He is just wary, for you showed up from nowhere."

"Oh." Whispered Ilmare. "I see."

Aerin dipped her soapy hands into the tub, washing them off before grabbing the jug again and rinsing Ilmare's hair. "Just give him time. He will warm up to you, I am sure."

Ilmare nodded and let Aerin finish cleaning her hair. The elleth dried her off and gave her a sleeping gown. Aerin helped get Ilmare situated for bed, tucking some of the girl's still damp hair behind her pointed ear.

"Do not fret, Ilmare." She said. "Just sleep. I will be here in the morning to get you ready for your lessons."

"Goodnight, Aerin." Said Ilmare as the elleth left, shutting the door and leaving the girl in darkness.

Ilmare sighed and rolled on her side, wiggling her body deeper into the blankets and soon, falling into a light sleep.

…

Melian had just put Legolas to bed and was now on her way to confront her husband about Ilmare, to see if he did have something to do with her sudden discomfort.

She strode into his study, head held high, emitting power. She stopped in front of his desk and crossed her arms over her chest.

Thranduil looked up from his papers and sighed, seeing his mates' un-amused look. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I don't know," replied Melian stubbornly. "Why don't you tell me?"

The king held his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his desk. "I do not know what you are speaking of."

"Did you say something to Ilmare?" she questioned. "You saw what she was like tonight at supper."

Thranduil looked at his mate. "Was it any different from before?"

Melian sighed and rolled her eyes. "You know very well that no one is like that unless nervous."

"I only said hello to her…" The king said.

"Thranduil," said Melian dangerously.

Thranduil leaned back into his chair. "What am I supposed to do?" he exclaimed. "I do not like or trust her. What do you expect me to do?"

Melian took a deep breath before continuing in a softer voice. "My love, I am not forcing you to like her- not that she has given any reason not to- just try and be kind to her." She raised an eyebrow. "What would the people think if they saw their king treating an elfling like this?"

Thranduil sighed in defeat. "Fine. You win. I will attempt to be… _civil._"

Melian smirked at her victory. She knew she would win.

…

The morning came too soon for Ilmare. It felt as though she had only been asleep for a few minutes before Aerin came and woke her.

"Good morning, Ilmare." The elleth said as she opened the door.

Ilmare groaned slightly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, reaching her arms far above her head and stretching, letting out a small yawn. "Is it time already?

Aerin nodded as she opened the wardrobe. "What dress would you like to wear today?"

Ilmare couldn't care less what dress she wore, but through halfway closed eyes, she looked at a bright white one. "Uhm, that one." She said sleepily, using all her will power not to fall back onto her pillows.

Aerin pulled out Ilmare's desired dress and watched in amusement as the girl struggled to get out of bed. The elleth looked at the desk in the corner, the sheet of paper on it catching her eye. Aerin looked at the detailed flowers upon the paper with interest. She placed the dress on the back of the chair and picked up the drawing, studying it closely.

"Ilmare, did you draw this?" she held it up to the young girl, whose feet just touched the ground.

"Yes, I did." Ilmare replied, patting down her messy hair.

Aerin smirked, eyeing the sheet of paper again. "You are very talented. This is truly beautiful."

Ilmare felt blood rush to her cheeks at her praise. "Thank you very much."

Aerin put the drawing down and helped Ilmare into her dress, quickly tying up the back before taming her wild hair and working it into a tight braid down her back.

Ilmare didn't pay much attention, for she was still very tired and had to constantly shake herself to make sure she did not fall asleep where she was sitting. Eventually, she was out the door of her room and on her way to breakfast before class.

They were halfway there when the king crossed their paths, causing Ilmare to freeze in her place. Thranduil made eye contact with the girl, seeing fear in her blue eyes.

He gave a slow nod. "Good morning, Ilmare." The king said with as much warmth as he could muster for the girl, whom he was still not fond of.

Ilmare blinked a few times, her mouth in a small 'o' shape. She took a heart beat longer until she came to her senses. "Good morning, my king." She said, bowing her head.

The king held her eye a moment longer before nodding towards Aerin, who curtsied in return. They continued on their way.

"See?" said Aerin. "I told you he would warm up to you."

"I guess you are right…" said Ilmare, though she knew that this comment was slightly forced. She could hear it in his voice.

Aerin poked the tip of Ilmare's nose with her index finger. "Do not fret." She said as they arrived at the dining room. "Have a wonderful day," she said as Ilmare walked through the entrance and sat down.

Melian gave her a friendly smile as Ilmare wiggled into her seat. "Good morning, child." She said. "Are you ready for your lessons?"

Ilmare nodded as she took a few grapes into her palm and popped them into her mouth one by one. "I am excited to learn."

Melian chuckled. "Well, at least _someone _is," she said, giving Legolas a pointed look.

Legolas paused before taking a bite of his apple. (Green, of course). "I never said I didn't like _learning._" He said. "I just don't like waking up!"

Ilmare laughed with Melian at his comment, her mood getting better with every passing moment.

Ilmare ate a few more grapes and a slice of warm bread before it was time to go. She took a long draught of water from her goblet and then leapt off her seat, brushing crumbs off her skirt.

"I will walk you to your tutor," she said, placing her hands on the backs of the two elflings and ushering them out of the room and into the halls. The two kids followed in her graceful wake while she led them along.

After a few minutes of walking and Ilmare and Legolas playfully teasing each other, Melian stopped and opened the door to their class room.

Ilmare peeked at their tutor from behind Melian's skirts, feeling nervous. Their teacher was a stern looking elleth with sharp cheek bones, black hair pulled tightly into braids. She held herself high, nose pointed up to the sky.

"Hello, my queen." She said, bowing her head towards Melian. "Young prince," she said, nodding again. She paused when she saw Ilmare looking at her with wide eyes. The tutor bowed her head towards the small girl anyways, surprised to see her there. "My lady."

Ilmare gave a small smile at this, the tutor smirking back, giving a wink.

"Pay attention today, Legolas." said Melian, giving her son a pointed look. "I'm sure Ilmare will."

Legolas scoffed. "I will become much smarter than her!" he vowed.

"Are you sure about that, princeling?" said Ilmare, giggling.

Legolas crossed his arms over his chest. "I am positive, _thinnas._"

The tutor watched their playful banter with amusement, knowing that the next eight years were going to be very entertaining.


	3. Chapter 3

**8 years later…**

Ilmare sat in her studies as the tutor droned on about Isildurs' battle against Sauron. It must have been the umpteenth time she had retold the tale. Ilmare could practically quote every word that she would say.

The girl, now twenty years of age, looked no more than ten. She lazily blew a rouge strand of her hair away from her face, where it had been annoying her nose for the past couple of minutes.

For the last year, she had been taking classes alone. Legolas was a year her elder and got to begin his training to become a warrior, leaving Ilmare alone to brace the world of classes.

Ilmare dearly wished her friend was there. She smirked to herself as she fondly remembered the fun they always had. The two young elves would always challenge each other to see who would get better marks of their tests. (Ilmare usually won). Once their classes were done, the pair wasted no time getting into trouble. Sometimes they would escape into the forest before they were asked to do anything by the queen. Other times they would go into the kitchens and speak with Avolozir until he gave them a treat. Sometimes, they would just go into the gardens. Ilmare would bring her drawing supplies and Legolas would watch over her shoulder as she skillfully captured the beauty of the flowers around her. He brought her to the healers sometimes, so Ilmare could watch them. They even showed her some basic healing methods.

Now, he spent his days training with the warriors of Greenwood, becoming stronger every day, while Ilmare practically wasted away in her studies.

The girl looked longingly out the window, wanting the class to end already.

_A few more minutes._ Ilmare thought to herself. _And then you start your training to be a healer._

It wasn't that she didn't like her classes. The tutor was kind and Ilmare liked her very much, but she did not like Legolas boasting about his exciting day learning sword play while all she did was learn about the Valar.

"Ilmare!" her teacher's voice shook her out of her thoughts. "Are you paying any attention?"

Ilmare blinked a few times, angry at herself for being caught daydreaming. "Yes, I am."

Her teacher raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. "Okay, my student. Then let's test your knowledge before you leave."

Ilmare nodded, prepared for whatever she would be asked. The girl leaned forward in her seat, eager to impress her teacher one last time.

"Who were the Edain?"

_Easy._ "They were the first Men to come out of the east into Beleriand."

"Who is Celeborn?"

Ilmare resisted rolling her eyes. She could answer these in her sleep. "Celeborn is the Lord of Lorien, mate to Lady Galadriel."

"Who is the spouse of Manwe?"

"Varda, Queen of the heavens."

Ilmare's teacher smirked. The young girl was very bright and would make a terrific healer. She learned quickly and efficiently. "I guess you have been paying attention, young one."

Ilmare grinned broadly, proud of her accomplishment. "I told you I have."

The older elleth chuckled. "Alright, Ilmare. You are dismissed."

The girl leapt out of her seat, and dashed towards the door, but, she paused before she opened it and turned back to her teacher. Ilmare gave her a sincere smile of thanks. "Thank you, my lady, for your teachings."

The elleths' lips twitched into a smirk. "You are most welcome, Ilmare."

And with that, Ilmare practically sprinted out of the door. She made it a few steps out the door before she was stopped by someone calling her name. Ilmare resisted the urge to groan and she spun around to see who needed her attention so badly that it could not wait any longer.

Legolas was leaning on the door frame outside of the class, garbed in his training clothes. He nearly missed her as she dashed by, obviously eager to get out of the room.

"_Thinnas,_" he said, amused when she put her hands on her hips in annoyance. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

Ilmare rolled her eyes at her friend as he got off the wall and made his way to her. "Aren't you supposed to be training?" he usually got off an hour after her.

Legolas shrugged. "I managed to get off early today. I told them it was your birthday, and that I wished to celebrate it with you."

Ilmare groaned, pointing an accusing finger at the young prince. "You know very well that there will be no celebration, princeling."

Legolas chuckled. "Not a big one, that is."

Ilmare raised a brow. She never celebrated her be-getting day. Not even with a small get together. "What are you on about, Legolas?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Legolas leaned in close, so they were not to be heard. "You are just going to have to trust me," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I have a plan.

…

"Legolas!" Ilmare hissed at quietly as she could. "This is never going to work!"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Not with that attitude it won't."

They were standing on either side of the kitchen doors, Legolas softly telling Ilmare his plan to steal Avolozir's box of sweet cakes.

Legolas pointed at Ilmare. "Just do what I said, it will work. I swear on my honor."

"What honor?" Ilmare teased, snickering quietly to herself.

Legolas narrowed his eyes. "Just go!"

Ilmare huffed. "Fine! But if this doesn't work, I am blaming you!" she tentatively opened the door a crack, peering inside. She located Avolozir at his normal spot, rolling out dough for bread. Ilmare stepped the rest of the way in.

"Hello, Avolozir," she greeted.

The elf looked away from his work at to the girl, wiping his flour covered hands on his already messy apron. "Hello, Ilmare. What brings you here?"

Ilmare shrugged, and recited the words Legolas told her to say. "The young prince is still training and I was looking for something to do…" she looked up at him with wide eyes, pouting her lips slight, giving him the look she knew that would get her anything. "Can I help you?"

Avolozir grinned. "I won't turn away an extra pair of hands," he led her over to a pile of potatoes, handing her a dull knife. "It would be wonderful if you can skin these for me."

Ilmare nodded and got to work, looking out of the corner of her eye as Legolas tip-toed towards the box of sweets that sat upon the table.

"So," said Avolozir. "I hear you're going to start training as a healer now?"

"Yes," said Ilmare, talking a few notches louder than normal incase if Legolas slipped up and made noise. "I am very excited to begin. I already know a few things that the other healers showed me." She watched her heart beating wildly as Legolas reached slowly for the box.

"I bet you will be very good at it," Avolozir stated, but Ilmare wasn't listening completely, too worried about Legolas messing up and revealing their plan. "You are a quick learner and will…"

Ilmare didn't hear the rest of what he said. Legolas had the box of sweets in his hand and was rushing out the door. Once she was sure that he was out of the kitchen, Ilmare jumped up and put her hands on the side of her face in mock-surprise.

"Oh!" she gasped. "I forgot that the queen wanted me after my studies!" Ilmare said, dropping the knife on the table. "I'm sorry!" she said, hoping her performance was convincing enough as she dashed out the door and to Legolas' side.

"Come on!" he said, holding onto the box tightly.

Laughing, they ran together into the forest, their stolen treasure in hand.

…

Once the pair was sure that they were deep enough in the forest so that they would not be disturbed, they ceased their running, pausing to catch their breath.

"I cannot believe that worked!" panted Ilmare, hands on her knees, chest heaving.

"I told you it would!" said Legolas, clutching their prize to his chest. They were silent for a few more moments, making sure their breathing was regular again. Legolas peered around the trees that surrounded them. "Come on, Ilmare." He said pointing to a tall three with low enough branches so they could climb. "Let's go up there!"

Ilmare followed him, letting him test out the branches first before she crawled up after him. He was better at climbing trees than she. Legolas led Ilmare to a thick branch about twenty feet off the ground. He gave her the spot to lean against the trunk of the tree. Normally, he would have taken that seat first, knowing how much it annoyed the girl, but today was her day, and he would be kind.

He placed the box of cakes in-between them, Ilmare sitting across from him with a huff, out of breath yet again.

"Don't tell me you are tired already!" exclaimed Legolas, noting Ilmare's red cheeks.

She narrowed her eyes dangerously. "If you slowed down and waited, perhaps I would have more energy!" she stuck her tongue out at him, pulling the box closer to her, taking the first cake for herself before pushing it towards her friend.

Ilmare took a bite, sighing in content as the familiar flavor washed over her tongue. This was a very nice treat for today.

"So," said Legolas, one of his cheeks stuffed with the cake, making his words muffle slightly. "Are you excited for learning to be a healer?"

Ilmare crossed her legs in front of her, thinking as she chewed. "Yes… but also a bit nervous. I hope I do everything right…"

Legolas rolled his eyes, swallowing a mouthful and grabbing another cake. "You're not going to get everything right the first time. That's the thing about learning."

Ilmare smirked. "I am guessing that you were not very successful with a bow on the first day?" she knew that he wasn't at first. She was there to watch him. Ilmare giggled as she remembered Legolas drawing back to string and releasing it, only to have the arrow land a couple of feet in front of him, stuck in the ground.

Legolas crossed his hands over his chest. "That is not the point…" he grumbled, causing Ilmare to laugh again. The boy rolled his eyes. "You know, I don't think I would be able to do healing… it's just so boring!"

Ilmare's eyes widened at his statement, raising an eyebrow at the prince. "You won't think it's boring when you have injured yourself in training!" the girl had seen a few cases of accidents that occurred during sparring matches. They were not fatal, but most defiantly uncomfortable.

Legolas scoffed. "What ever you say, _thinnas…_ you know, I bet that you-"

The young prince was cut off by the sound of a twig breaking. Their eyes snapped towards each other. No elf could make noise like that walking through the forest. Ilmare inhaled sharply, an unpleasant, putrid smell reaching her nose. She could tell by the look on Legolas' face that he smelled it as well. In unison, the two elves inched towards the edge of the branch, peeking down at the forest floor. Ilmare gasped at what she saw.

A single orc stood under the tree. His flesh was green in color, with long arms that nearly brushed the ground. He was clad in furs crudely stitched together, at his hip, a wicked curved blade.

Ilmare looked at the creature in fear. She had never seen an orc before, but she had read about them and their vile actions. Her small body shivered in terror as the orc sat down on a root, taking a small break.

Ilmare turned to Legolas. "Can you kill it?" she questioned, pointing to the small dagger at his hip that all training warriors received.

Legolas gripped the small blade, never taking his eyes off the creature down below. "N-no. I cannot. It is blunt."

Ilmare opened her mouth, ready to ask what other options were there, but she was cut off when the orc suddenly sniffed the air, standing up. It turned in a circle, eyeing its surroundings.

"I know you are there!" it snarled with a voice like sandpaper.

Ilmare's heart skipped a beat as it scented the air again, its ugly head looking up right at them.

"Elflings!" it hissed, licking its split lips with a tongue as black as his soul. "Fresh meat…" its hand gravitated towards the hilt of his blade, yellow eyes narrowed in thought, planning what to do once he got them. It jumped onto the lowest branch and began climbing towards them.

Ilmare gasped and stumbled away from the edge, gripping Legolas' arm tight. "What do we do?" she cried as the creature got closer. The elf prince didn't respond at first, causing Ilmare to shake him in panic. "Legolas!"

The boy turned from the creature climbing the tree, looking into the frantic eyes of Ilmare. He gave her a determined look. "Follow me," he said, kicking the box of sweets down on the head of the orc, causing it to cry out in pain and giving them a few precious seconds to escape.

Legolas quickly swung down the opposite side of the tree, Ilmare in his wake. "Quickly!" he urged the girl, hearing the orc curse in its foul language before chasing after them.

Ilmare ran faster than she ever had before, heart beating wildly. She could hear the orc catching up with them.

"Little brats!" it spat. "I'll kill you both!"

Ilmare felt hot tears fill her eyes, blurring her vision. This couldn't be happening!

She cried out as the orcs' hand grabbed her hair, stopping her in her tracks and pulling Ilmare back against it.

"Legolas!" she called, seeing his head whip around to her, fear in his eyes.

The boy dashed to the creature, grabbing the hilt of his dagger and whipping out the knife. Legolas knew that the blade was not sharp, but he also knew it would hurt a lot if it got jabbed anywhere with open flesh. Legolas quickly embedded the blade in the orcs arm, blood spurting on his sleeve as he drew it out just as fast. The creature dropped Ilmare's hair, leaving her free to run.

"Hurry, Ilmare!" Legolas called.

The girl began running again, her scalp beating in pain. Ilmare looked to her sides, searching for Legolas, but he was not there. Panic entered her being.

_Oh Valar._ Ilmare thought, heart wrenching. _Oh no. he cannot be dead! He just cannot be!_

Ilmare ran blindly, not knowing where to go or what to do anymore. She told her feet to work, yet they kept stumbling over each other, bringing death closer with every slip up.

Suddenly, a hand firmly grasped Ilmare's wrist, tugging her off the path and into the tree line. She opened her mouth to scream, but it was silenced when a hand cupped over her face. The girl was quickly dragging under a large tree root. Ilmare struggled, refusing to give up without a fight.

"Shh!" a voice hissed in her ear. Ilmare knew instantly that it did not belong to an orc. She looked up at the face of her captor, body slumping in relief when she saw it was Legolas.

She closed her eyes, a few tears escaping her eyes._ Thank goodness._

Ilmare could hear the orc approaching, and knew her breathing was loud and erratic._ Calm down,_ she told herself, and began reciting a familiar tune in her head. _Rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens…_

After eight years, Ilmare never forgot this song. She still sang it whenever she felt sad or stress, but now Ilmare was doing it to calm down. Soon, her breathing evened, her chest rising and falling softly.

Ilmare felt Legolas stiffen when the orc stopped its pursuit, standing a few feet away from them, scenting the air. Ilmare's eyes widened when she heard the sound of metal being unsheathed, heavy footsteps approaching.

"I know you are there," it snarled. "Come out, little elflings…"

Legolas gripped his knife, ready to fight for his and his friend's life when it came to it. This was his job; it was his duty to protect, no matter the cost. Legolas shifted, ready to leap out and attack, but someone beat him to it.

A loud _twang_ followed by a dull _thud_ echoed across the forest. A large mass crashed upon the earth, the sound ringing in Ilmare's ears.

Legolas tentatively peeked over the root, seeing what caused the noise. He sighed in relief when he saw the orc lying limply on the ground, an arrow through its head. Black blood oozed out of the wound, flowing onto the forest floor.

Legolas knelt down next to Ilmare, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's okay," he whispered reassuringly. "The orc is dead."

Ilmare looked up at her friend, eyes red and puffy. "A-are you sure?" she stuttered.

Legolas took her hand, gently helping her off the ground. "I am sure."

Ilmare gripped her friend's waist tightly, his hand resting softly on her back, leading her around the tree root. Ilmare squeaked in fright as she saw the body of the orc, hiding her face in Legolas' tunic, holding onto him as if her life depended on it.

"Prince Legolas!" a voice called as a fair-haired elf descended from the trees, bow in hand.

"Tamarthon!" called Legolas, glad to his master. He was the captain of the Greenwood guard and army and was a very skilled warrior. Legolas only hoped to be as talented as he.

"Prince Legolas," the elf repeated breathlessly, kneeling down in front of the elflings. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, master." The boy answered as strongly as he could muster, but unable to hide the small quiver of fear.

Tamarthon studied his pupil with worry. The young Princes' tunic was splattered with black blood, face covered with dirt and a few leaves tangled in his hair.

"What about you, lady Ilmare?" the captain said, looking at the frantic young girl. "How do you fare?"

"I-I am okay." She said weakly, body still shaking. "Legolas saved me." Ilmare looked up thankfully at her friend, who gave her a comforting squeeze, before he winced.

Tamarthon furrowed his brows as the young prince clutched his arm and winced, the blood of an elf mixing with the dark blood of the orc.

"You are injured!" the elf exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "What did this?"

"The blade…" Legolas said, nodding his head toward the sword that was still clutched in the creature's hand.

Tamarthon scurried over and picked up the weapon, prying the orcs dead fingers off the hilt before narrowing his eyes in concentration as he studied the blade closely before snarling and tossing it to the ground in disgust. "Poisoned!"

Ilmare gasped and looked at Legolas, concern written on her delicate features. "Oh, no!"

Tamarthon narrowed his eyes in determination. "We must get him to the house of healing!" he said as he made a move towards Legolas.

"No!" cried Ilmare, holding her hands up and blocking her friend. She knew that the poison would spread before they even reached the gate. Ilmare read it in a small book of healing that she had been given the year before. "I need you to listen to me, my lord." She waited until he nodded firmly before continuing. Ilmare gently prying Legolas' fingers off his arm. She motioned to the guard to come closer to her. "You must cut the sleeve of his tunic up to the wound, and then tightly bind it right above it. It will slow the spread. Legolas, it will not be pleasant, but you're going to have to deal with it."

Tamarthon did as the girl commanded, Ilmare nodding in approval as he worked.

"Now, you must keep pressure on the wound until I come back." Ilmare didn't wait for either of them to ask where she was going before she dashed into the woods, ignoring her legs not wanting to corporate out of exhaustion.

Ilmare scanned the forest floor, looking for the small plant that she knew grew in the forest; Athelas. She quickly found it at the base of a tall oak tree, gently pulling the vines out of the ground and holding the bundle in her hand as she sprinted back to the path.

Ilmare knew she was only gone a few minutes, but Legolas already looked weaker, his face pale and scrunched up with pain.

"Thank you, Tamarthon." Ilmare said, holding the young princes' arm gently. She carefully inspected the wound. It was not bleeding much, but she knew of the danger within. She looked at Legolas with calming eyes as she stuck some of the leaves into her mouth and chewed them into a paste. "This is going to hurt, but I think you can get through it."

She waited until Legolas gave a curt nod before spreading the leaves in his wound, causing the boy to cry out. Ilmare cringed at the sound at her friend in pain but continued to smear it until she was sure it was fully covered.

"Lord Tamarthon, may I see your knife please?"

The warrior handed it to her without a second thought. He was amazed by how well she was faring in the situation, calmly taking control and speaking like a master healer.

Ilmare cut a strand of cloth from her dress, tying it tightly around the wound. She tapped Legolas on the side of his face, making certain that he did not fall asleep.

"Legolas, you need to stay awake, okay?"

The boy gave a weak nod.

Ilmare turned to the warrior. "You need to get him to the healers as fast as you can. The plant will only slow the poison, not stop it. Make sure he does not fall asleep." Tamarthon strode over to the prince, picking him up in his arms, turning to run, but then pausing.

"What about you?"

Ilmare stomped her foot impatiently. "I know my way back!" she snapped. "Just go!"

And with that, the warrior was gone, disappearing from view in just a few strides.

…

It took Tamarthon less than five minutes to reach the gates of the Greenwood palace. Others gasped as he ran through the halls, seeing the weak prince in his arms. He could hear whispers and murmurings around him, speaking of what became of the girl and why she was not present next to her friend. The warrior ignored them, only needing to get to the healers. The elf was almost there…

Tamarthon burst through the doors, earning a few startled looks from the elleth in the room.

"The prince is injured!" he cried, lowering the boy onto a small cot while the healers swarmed around.

"What happened?" asked the head healer, Andoiel, as she examined the injured boy.

"Poisoned blade from an orc," he answered breathlessly, watching with concern as they worked.

Andoiel quickly undid the binding around his arm while another elleth placed a damp rag upon his sweaty forehead. The healer's eyebrows when she saw the chewed up Athelas, but didn't stop working. "Who treated this?" she knew it was not Tamarthon.

"It was the elfling, Ilmare." The warrior answered.

"She has saved his life." Andoliel said. "The princes' body would have been overrun by the poison by now if she didn't do this."

They spoke no more to Tamarthon, only focused on healing, murmuring elvish under their breath, cleansing the wound and slowly washing out the poison. Color soon returned to the princes' face, breathing becoming deep and even.

Soon, the king and queen came striding through the door, kneeling at their son's side.

"What happened?" the king demanded, looking at Tamarthon for an explanation.

The warrior stood up straight and tall as he spoke. "A poisoned orc blade cut his arm, my lord."

The queen gasped, placing a hand on the side of Legolas' face whispering words of comfort in his ear, stroking his light hair. Melian tuned to the captain again. "Where is Ilmare?" she said quietly, fearing the worst.

The king raised an eyebrow, not expressing his thoughts on the girl, firmly believing it was her fault that his son was like this one way or another. It was rare to have orc in Greenwood.

"She is in the forest, my queen." Answered Tamarthon. "I will fetch her if you wish…"

The queen nodded. "Please, do."

The captain bowed respectfully before turning heel and walking out of the doors to go find the young girl whom the queen had come to favor.

"That girl saved his life," Andoiel told the king and queen once the warrior was gone. "If it wasn't for her quick thinking, the young prince would not be with us anymore." She said, tucking a strand of her straw colored hair behind her ear.

Melian looked at the healer curiously. "Ilmare? She has not even begun training yet…"

Andoiel shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "I gave her a book to study before she began… she was quite eager about it."

"Will Legolas be alright?" asked Thranduil, watching his sons sleeping form.

"Yes, my lord." Andoiel answered. "He will just need some time to rest. It takes a great amount of energy to get the poison out of the system, but in about a week, he will be fine."

Melian sighed in relief, gently shutting her eyes. _Thank the Valar,_ she thought.

…

Ilmare slowly trudged back to the halls, her legs feeling like lead. She was exhausted from all the running she had done on the account of her life and Legolas'. She didn't feel it nearly as much when she had adrenaline pumping through her veins.

The girl rubbed the back of her head, the pain in her scalp now a dull ache. Ilmare sighed loudly, a pit of worry in her stomach for Legolas. She hoped that he was alright. If he wasn't… well, Ilmare didn't know what would happen if he wasn't.

It wasn't long before she heard light elvish footsteps approaching. She gave a tiny smile as Tamarthon came into view, his eyes landing on the girl struggling to stay upright.

"Hello, Ilmare." He said softly. She waved and wobbled on her feet, threatening to fall to the ground. "Whoa," the warrior said, steadying the girl. He turned around, offering her his back. Ilmare gratefully climbed on, holding onto his shoulders with all her might as he stood.

"How is Legolas?" she asked as they began walking back to the halls.

"He is fine, thanks to you." Answered Tamarthon, looking at Ilmare from the corner of his eye.

The girl furrowed her brows. "What do you mean? It was my fault he got hurt in the first place." She said, guilt eating away at her.

"If you didn't use that plant on his wound, Legolas would have died." He explained, feeling the young girl tense.

"Oh." Ilmare said in a tiny voice, not speaking again until they came back to the halls.

Ilmare heard the whispers around her.

"There she is!"

"How is it that she escaped unscathed and the prince was near death?"

"Do you think she had something to do with it?"

Ilmare whimpered and buried her face in the crook of Tamarthon's neck, trying to hide from the voices around her. They all believed that she had caused Legolas' injury. They were correct in a way. If she hadn't gotten caught by the orc, then Legolas wouldn't have had to save her and he would be okay.

"Can I see him?" Ilmare murmured in the captain's ear.

"Are you not too tired?"

Ilmare shook her head, tucking hair behind her ear. "I have to see him first."

Tamarthon sighed and began on the path back to the healing houses. "As you wish…"

Ilmare paid no attention to those around her, but still felt their gazes on her back. She was thankful that it did not take much time to get to their destination. The warrior pushed open the door, those in the room all looking towards the two.

Ilmare's eyes landed on Legolas on the cot, his eyes shut and breathing deeply. The queen looked at the girl with relief, seeing that she was unharmed while the king eyed her warily.

Ilmare slipped off the Tamarthon's back and scrambled towards her friends side, gently gripping his hand. She placed her forehead on the edge of the cot and exhaled loudly. "Thank the gods."

Melian watched Ilmare with a wry smile upon her lips. "We should be thanking you."

Ilmare looked up at the queen, dark blue eyes large and shining in the light. "But why?" she said with a bitter note in her voice. "If I hadn't of been so careless, I wouldn't have been caught and then Legolas wouldn't have-"

The queen silenced the girl, holding up a hand. "It matters not. The only thing of importance is that his life has been saved, and if it wasn't for your quick thinking, our son would not be here."

Ilmare clutched Legolas' hand tighter than she meant to. "T-thank you, my lady." She stuttered. "If it wasn't for his actions, I would not be here either…" sha said quietly, not noticing Legolas' face scrunch up and his eyes crack open.

"Ilmare…" he said softly, causing the girl to look at him in surprise. She had not expected him to awake this soon. Legolas' gaze drifted towards their interlocked hands. "You are holding on awfully tight…"

"Oh!" exclaimed Ilmare, slipping her hand out of his and then looking at his face again, joy spreading through her body. She chuckling slightly at the irony of the situation.

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "What is so funny, _thinnas?_" he asked, continuing to tease his friend, even in his weakened state.

Ilmare smirked, flicking the prince lightly on the nose. "You don't think healing is so boring now, do you?"

**Authors note:**

**If anyone has any ideas for scenes in Ilmare's and Legolas' childhood, you should tell me! If I really like them, I will probably add them into my story!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Ilmare spent the next couple hours by her friend's side, watching the healers at work, speaking with Legolas, and answering any questions the queen asked her about the attack while the king spoke to Tamarthon.

"What do you think an orc was doing in our woods so close to our halls?" Thranduil asked, pacing in front of the captain.

"I do not know, sire." The warrior answered truthfully. "Perhaps it was traveling from the Iron Mountain?"

"Perhaps…" the king said slowly. "It was rather far from the old Forest Road, don't you think?"

Tamarthon nodding, Thranduil making an excellent point. "There is always a chance that it got lost. Orcs are not very bright creatures…"

Thranduil exhaled loudly. "Have a patrol go to the Forest Road and see if you can find any others."

"Yes, my lord." He said, bowing his head respectfully and crisply turning to leave the room, nearly crashing into Aerin, who was coming to receive Ilmare for bed.

Aerin's eyes widened and began blushing profusely. "I am sorry, my lord." She said, nodding towards the ground.

Tamarthon gave a warm smile, looking at her with kind eyes. "Worry not, my lady. No harm was done." He said a quick farewell to the elleth before going to the other warriors and arranging his patrol.

Ilmare carefully studied the exchange between the two elves, watching Aerin's uncharacteristic fluster and pink cheeks. Realization dawned on the girl. Aerin _liked_ Tamarthon.

Said elleth shook herself, remembering what she came here to do. She strode to Ilmare. "It is high time you retired for the night, child."

Ilmare furrowed her brows and looked at Legolas, unable to deny that she was extremely weary.

"Go to sleep, Ilmare." Legolas urged. "I will be here tomorrow. I am not going anywhere."

Ilmare gave a small laugh. "As you wish my dear princeling." She said, giving an over dramatic bow as she stood.

Legolas chuckled at his friend as she began to leave the room. "Good night, _thinnas._" He called

The king watched as Ilmare followed Aerin out of the healing quarters. He sighed in defeat as he called; "Girl, wait."

Ilmare froze in her spot, turning towards Thranduil, nervous about the reason why he called her. "Yes, my lord?" she said in a small voice.

The king pressed his lips in a tight line, swallowing hard before begrudgingly saying. "Thank you." It sounded strained, even to him.

This surprised nearly all in the room, especially Ilmare, who was unable to say anything for a few moments, standing in stunned silence. The girl soon came to her senses.

"Thank you, my king."

Thranduil gave a curt nod of dismissal, making Ilmare practically scramble out of the room as fast as she could. Once the girl was out earshot, Melian turned to her mate.

"What was that about?" she chuckled, knowing that he was still not used to Ilmare, even after eight years.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes. "I was being courteous. She saved Legolas' life, that is all."

"Hmmm," said Melian thoughtfully, looking at her son and raising an eyebrow, causing them both to break out in a fit of giggles.

The king tried to look annoyed, but couldn't help the corner of his lips from twitching at the sight of his family laughing before his eyes, alive and safe.

…

Ilmare stepped out of the bath, wrapping a towel tightly around her now cleaned body. She wrung left over water from her hair, a few droplets clinging to her hand and dripping down her arm. The girl dried off as quickly as she could and slipped on her night dress, eager to get out of the cold night air and slip into bed.

"You really should clean your room," Aerin commented as Ilmare threw the covers over herself.

The elfling scanned the floor. Many sheets of paper covered with drawings were scattered on the ground, along with dresses thrown in bundles in the corners of her room. Ilmare also never made her bed. She didn't see the point if it was going to get unmade later in the day.

Ilmare shrugged. "What's the point? You're the only person who ever comes in here!"

Aerin chuckled. "I suppose you are right…"

Ilmare watched the elleth carefully as she pulled the sheets over the corners of the bed. "Lady Aerin, do you like lord Tamarthon?"

The elleth's eyes widened at the question. Why was this child always so perspective? "He is very kind and strong…"

Ilmare rolled her eyes. "Not like that! I mean do you _like_ him?"

Aerin wrung her hands, shifting her weight awkwardly. "I-uhm… I suppose so…" she found herself grinning broadly when she admitted it out loud.

Ilmare beamed and sat up, wiggling over and making room for the elleth. The girl patted the spot next to her. "Come! Tell me about it!"

Aerin sighed and plopped down next to the girl, leaning on the wall. "Oh, Ilmare." She said breezily, hardly believing she was speaking about these things with an elfling. "I do very much like him." Aerin sighed, smiling at the ceiling. "He is so handsome and valiant! Many other elleth fancy him as well…" her smile fell. "I do not believe I have much of a chance with him."

Ilmare raised an eyebrow. "Did you not see how he looked at you?" she exclaimed, nudging the older elf in the shoulder. "I would not think he looks at many others like that."

Aerin huffed and stood up from the bed, pointing at Ilmare. "That is what you think!" she laughed, pursing her lips and tilting her head. "I trust that you will not speak of this to anyone?"

Ilmare nodded rapidly. "You have my word, Lady Aerin."

The elleth gave a quick nod. "Good! Now, get to sleep. You must be exhausted." She blew out a candle, extinguishing the last source of light in the room. "Good night, Ilmare."

The last thing Ilmare remembered was the sound of the door closing before she fell into a deep sleep.

…

The girl awoke many hours later, her body aching, but feeling more refreshed than she had in a long time.

_Wait._ Thought Ilmare sitting bolt upright, brows almost meeting in the middle. _What time is it? How long was I asleep? I am supposed to be in the healing halls!_ She thought frantically as she tossed the sheets off her legs and jumped onto the floor, scrambling to get ready.

Ilmare blindly grabbed a dress off the floor and tugged it over her head, desperately trying to tie the laces in the back. _Aerin has probably already gone to elope with Tamarthon!_ The girl thought sarcastically, wishing the elleth was here right now.

With a groan of frustration, Ilmare gave up on the laces, figuring she would do something about them later. _Late on my first day!_ Ilmare thought bitterly as she shoved a pair of black slippers on her feet before grabbing a hairbrush and yanking it painfully through her tangled locks.

She rushed towards the bathroom and splashed some water on her face, grabbing a fresh towel and drying it off just as quick. She grabbed a strap of leather from the marble counter and threw her hair into a messy bun, pieces of it already falling out and resting on Ilmare's cheeks.

The girl rushed out her door, not caring the slightest that she left it wide open. She soon found herself jogging through the halls, face falling in dismay as she saw it was well past noon. The girl picked up the speed, slipping past others in the halls as efficiently as she could. Ilmare was thankful when the doors to the healing halls came into view.

Ilmare pushed her weight into opening the heavy doors, flying into the room breathless. The girl blinked a few times, scanning the room around her. A few elleths looked at her curiously.

"Oh, hello there _thinnas._" Said Legolas from his cot, looking very amused at her appearance while munching of a piece of crunchy bread.

Ilmare narrowed her eyes at her friend before giving her attention to Andoiel, bowing her head in shame. "I apologize for my tardiness, my lady."

The head healer chuckled at the girl. "Ilmare, child, you were not expected today."

Ilmare looked up from the ground, raising an eyebrow. "I am not?"

Andoiel shook her head. "I believed you needed a long rest, and I was correct!"

The girl blushed. "Oh… but I am here anyways. I might as well start now."

The elleth sighed. "If you are sure you are not too weary… I see no harm in it."

Ilmare grinned broadly and followed Andoiel like a small shadow.

"You already know where we keep the healing herbs and bandages and know most of the basics I would believe…" the healer babbled, lost in thought. "Do you know how to make a pain reliever?"

Ilmare nodded rapidly. "Yes. You need to boil mallos leaf and the lissuin flower together…" the girl paused, racking her brain. "You could also add honey to make it taste better if wanted."

"Very good," Andoiel said with pride. "Can you make a low dose of it, please?"

"Yes, my lady." Answered Ilmare respectfully, bowing her head and scurrying over to the cabinet that held the healing plants. Her sharp eyes quickly scanned the plethora of jars placed upon rack after rack, looking for the two plants that she needed.

Ilmare soon found the mallos leaves and the bright red lissuin flower, taking two of the leaves and one of the buds, knowing the appropriate amount for a light dose. She carefully carried the herbs over to the fire place that was always burning. The elfling grabbed a small metal jug that was resting on the table and filled it up with water from a pump. Ilmare first crushed the plants in-between her fingers, which helps unleash the healing properties better.

"Are you doing it right?" Legolas called from behind her, causing Ilmare to jump and spill a bit of water.

She whipped around and glared at the prince. "Yes, my dear princeling. I am. Thank you for the concern." Her nose wrinkled as she playfully stuck her tongue out at him before returning to her work and placing the mangled herbs into the water and placing it over the roaring fire.

While the girl waited for it to boil, Ilmare stood and grabbed the jar of honey, thinking it wouldn't do any harm to add it and get rid of the bitter taste.

"What are you doing now, _thinnas?_" Legolas asked as she brought the jar back to the fire, adding a few drops to the brew.

Ilmare sighed as the sweet smell of honey reached her nose, her fingers becoming sticky. "Legolas, did I ever do this to you at your training?"

"No…" Legolas admitted, watching the girl stir whatever she was making above the fire. "But it is amusing to do it to you!"

Ilmare ignored him and watched the draught, quickly taking the cup into her hands once the water began to bubble. The metal was hot under her hands, but she ignored to, bringing the pain reliever to Andoiel.

"It is finished."

The healer took the cup out of the girls hand and studied it closely, making sure the color was correct; a watery shade of pink. Andoiel also sniffed the liquid, nodding in approval and handing it back to Ilmare.

"Very good," she praised, making Ilmare grin broadly. "Now, can you please bring this to prince Legolas?"

The girl looked up at her teacher with wide eyes. "Is it possible I can add a sleeping draught to it as well?"

Andoiel laughed. "I am afraid not, my child."

Ilmare sighed in defeat and trudged over to Legolas, shoving the cup into his palm. "Here," she said. "It is to help with the pain."

"Thank you," he said, bringing it to his lips, but pulling it back with a start the moment it touched his lips. "It is hot!" he cried.

Ilmare rolled her eyes. "You just saw me heat it up!" she said, throwing her arms in the air. Legolas huffed and took a long sip of it. "Oh, and do try not to drink the leaves at the bottom. It will not taste good."

The prince finished it in a few gulps, leaving the substance at the bottom as requested. He handed the empty cup back to the girl, now noticing the state of the back of her dress.

"_Thinnas,_ the back of your dress is not laced."

Ilmare raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" she said sarcastically. "I didn't notice."

"Stop being a stubborn elleth and let me help you!"

Ilmare sighed in defeat and offered her back to the young prince. Legolas cringed as he hauled himself into a sitting position.

"Don't strain yourself!" Ilmare said in worry.

"I can sit up!" the boy snapped. "It is not difficult." Legolas was very irked that one small scratch had caused him all this pain. He didn't want to seem weak in anyway, and soon the pain reliever would go into effect and numb it. Legolas made quick work of the laces of the dress, skill fully tying them so they would not come undone.

"Legolas," said Ilmare, curious about something. "Do you know if Tamarthon fancies anyone?"

The boy shrugged, this not really being something he knew a lot about... but he had overheard the warrior speaking to some of the other guards about it. "I am not sure… I think it may be Aerin…" Legolas' eyes widened suddenly, looking at Ilmare over her shoulder. "Do _you _fancy Tamarthon?"

"What?" exclaimed Ilmare a little too loudly. She lowered her voice when she spoke again. "No! Aerin does!" Ilmare slapped her hands over her mouth and cursed herself. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that…"

"Do you know what this means?" said Legolas, excitement in his eyes.

Ilmare shook her head, wondering where her friend was going with this.

Legolas rolled his eyes at Ilmare's cluelessness. "It _means_… we are going to have to get them together!"

…

For the rest of the time while Legolas was in the healing halls, the elflings made their master plan. Whenever Ilmare had time to spare, she would sit by her friend and talk, watching as he grew stronger every day. It would leave a small scar, but nothing too big._ My first battle scar,_ Legolas called it fondly.

Once the prince was released from the healing room, he was given one day off before he was back to training. This was the day that they would execute their plan.

"This one might work!" said Ilmare, walking briskly beside Legolas.

"My last one worked too," grumbled the young prince.

Ilmare shrugged. "Up until the end, that is." She teased.

Legolas ignored her quip and scanned their surrounds, judging the time, knowing they had a few moments before they had to begin. "Okay, _thinnas._ It is time."

Ilmare gave a firm nod and dashed off through the halls, her friend going on his own way.

The girl scanned the sea of elves, looking for the familiar face of her handmaiden. Ilmare grinned toothily when her eyes landed on her, looking rather lovely today with a light purple gown._ Ah, perfect!_ Thought Ilmare as she rushed up next to the elleth.

"Lady Aerin!" the girl called, falling in step with her.

"Oh, hello Ilmare." Aerin said lightly. "How are you today?"

"Very well, thank you." Ilmare replied breezily. She looked up at the tall elleth with large, pleading eyes. "Do you think you can go into the forest with me? I have to gather some herbs for the healers and I am still wary about going there alone…" the girl fibbed. She really didn't mind the forest, but this was a necessary part of the plan.

Aerin looked at the elfling with sadness. Poor thing was terrified after the episode with the orc. "Of course, young one."

Ilmare smirked and motioned for the elleth to follow her. "Well, come on then!" she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet and bounding through the halls.

"Oh!" gasped Aerin, hiking up her skirts and chasing after the girl. "Slow down!"

Ilmare laughed to herself, sprinting and weaving through the legs of elves. She hoped Legolas' part of the plan was going correctly as well…

…

The young prince skidded to a stop in front of the captains' quarters, knocking rapidly on the wooden door.

A heartbeat later, Tamarthon threw open the door, looking rather disgruntled. He looked at eye level for a millisecond before turning his gaze down at the breathless prince. "What is it, Legolas?"

"There is something strange in the forest!"

The warriors eyes widened in worry. "What is it?"

Legolas hopped on the ground impatiently. "I-I don't know! You must come quickly!"

Tamarthon grabbed his bow and quiver off the wall where he kept them by the door, just in case of a situation like this. When he looked back at the boy, he was already halfway down the hall way and not slowing down for anything.

"Wait up, Legolas!"

The prince snickered to himself and kept a large enough distance from the older elf so that he could still see him. Legolas ran through the halls slipping around corners and past startled elves. Once he made it outside the gate, he paused and called; "Hurry, Lord Tamarthon!" before taking off again to his mothers garden, the spot which he and Ilmare had decided to meet up.

He hoped she was on time.

…

"We are almost there, Aerin!" cried Ilmare, motioning for the elleth to come to her. They were right on the edge of Legolas' mothers' garden, nearly to the rendezvous spot. Ilmare's' sharp eyes quickly located the spot right before the small bridge that stretched over the fish pond, stopping in front of it.

_Where is he?_ She thought frantically, but almost the moment she had thought this, a mass crashed into her, knocking the both of them to the ground.

"Ilmare!" Legolas said, jumping up from the ground and tugging at her wrist and dragging her behind some bushes. "Hurry!"

The girl scrambled behind the foliage, her shoulder pressed against Legolas' as they watched through gaps in the branches as the older elves crashed into each other much like they had, but Tamarthon's reactions were quick and caught Aerin by the hand before she fell.

The elleth blinked a few times, staring up at the warrior holding onto her in shock, taking a few moments to come to her senses before she regained her footing, feeling blood rush up to her cheeks at their proximity.

"My apologies, Lord Tamarthon," Aerin said, smoothing down her skirt. "I-I was careless…"

The warrior held out in hands. "No need to apologize, Lady Aerin… I fear I was tricked by the young prince…"

Aerin laughed. "I fear I was tricked by his friend…" she said, regretting that she had told Ilmare anything about this.

Tamarthon rubbed the back of his neck, giving the elleth in front of him a lopsided smirk. "Ah, I probably never should have told him about how I feel about y-" he stopped himself, realizing his slipup. He had spoken without thinking. The warrior let out a deep sigh. "Forgive me, I should not have said that…" he said, turning to leave out of embarrassment.

"No, wait!" called Aerin, taking a few steps closer and slowly intertwining her fingers with his, looking into his warm eyes deeply. "I-I think there is something were share in common…" she spoke quietly, suddenly feeling very shy.

Tamarthon watched as Aerin smiled at him, heart soaring. "I do believe that is a good thing…" he said, leaning in closer to the elleth, closing the distance between them.

"Alright then," said Legolas, turning away from the scene once he saw their increasing proximity. "I think we are done here," he said awkwardly, pulling Ilmare away from her spying place.

She followed behind Legolas as he led her around the garden, not wanting to disturb the pair. The girl was grinning wildly. "Oh, wasn't that wonderful?"

The prince shrugged. "I guess it was alright…"

Ilmare raised an eyebrow. "What did you find so unappealing?"

Legolas made a face. "The love part."

The girl barked out a laugh. He was _such _a boy! "So are you saying you will never fall in love?"

Legolas crossed his arms over his chest a firmly nodded his head. "I am planning not to!" he didn't do romance… or anything like it! Legolas found the entire thing gross.

"Alright, princeling. I will forever give you a hard time once you find an elleth you fancy!" Ilmare vowed as they entered back into the halls, playfully punching her friend on the arm.

Legolas elbowed Ilmare in the ribs. "Whatever you say, _thinnas._"

…

Once night had fallen, Ilmare sat at the desk, testing out charcoal pencils that the queen had given her a few days ago. Her hand flew across the page, shading in the bark of the tree she had been sketching, working hard to capture the texture of the bark.

Ilmare had already bathed and was excited for Aerin to arrive. She wanted to know everything about how the rest of her day went. The girl sighed and brushed some excess charcoal off the page, turning her fingers black.

Ilmare stood abruptly when she heard the knock at the door, rushing forward and opening it, smiling sweetly at Aerin.

"Good evening, Lady Aerin." She said, stepping aside so the elleth could enter the room.

Aerin swept into the room, crossing her arms over her chest and giving the elfling a pointed glare, but unable to keep her lips from twitching upwards.

"Oh, no need to _thank _me!" exclaimed Ilmare with a laugh as she shut the door behind her.

Aerin pointing an accusing finger at the girl. "I should have known you were up to something! You and the young Prince make a very troublesome team!"

Ilmare shrugged as she plopped onto her bed. "I wouldn't call what we did today _troublesome._ It worked out rather well for you, did it not?"

Aerin sighed in defeat, not being able to contain the laughter that bubbled up inside her. "I guess it may have…"

Ilmare threw her arms into the air. "Well, tell me!"

The elleth lowered herself onto the elflings bed, tucking her knees underneath her body. Aerin's eyes sparkled as she spoke. "Oh, Ilmare! It was wonderful! Tamarthon is so kind and caring! We spent the whole day in the gardens. I never would have thought that something this perfect would happen to me!"

The elfling smirked proudly. "Perhaps I should do this for a living!"

Aerin laughed good naturedly. "I think you should stick to healing, small one. And speaking of which, you are going to have to wake up early tomorrow, so I would suggest going to sleep now."

Ilmare groaned but buried herself under the blankets anyways. Aerin said a quick goodnight and turned to leave.

"Aerin?" said Ilmare softly.

"Hmm?"

"Tell Tamarthon I said goodnight!"


	5. Chapter 5

**8 years later…**

"Legolas, do elves have misshapen heads in your eyes?" Ilmare laughed, looking over her friends shoulder as she tried to show him how to draw.

Legolas sighed and leaned his head back against the window where they were seated. He had one of the only rooms to even _have _a window, so he had a small seat built in front of it so he could watch the forest.

"Not all of us are naturally talented in art, _thinnas!_" he said defensively, though he knew his crude drawing was nothing compared to Ilmare's.

The elflings were now twenty eight, but seemed no more than fourteen. They were both deeply immersed in their training, and never had much time to spend together, so they treasured moments like this, with nothing to stress about.

Ilmare chuckled and looked at Legolas' face, which was scrunched in concentration as he drew. He was beginning to lose the childish roundness in his face, his cheekbones becoming more prominent and the angles of his face sharper. He was tall, (At least a head taller than Ilmare, so his nickname for her was now justified), and lean from his training. The prince was becoming skilled with the bow, making his mother and father very proud.

Ilmare couldn't deny that he was handsome, this realization coming to her recently. It wasn't something she noticed before, but it was all always the first thought that came to mind when she saw him. Ilmare knew that once he was of age, he would be the target of many elleth's attentions.

"There!" said Legolas, handing her the paper with his drawing on it.

Ilmare eyed the 'art' curiously. "What on earth is this supposed to be?"

Legolas gave her a look of mock-hurt. "You mean you cannot tell?" he sighed and pointed to the humanoid figures. "You see, this me," he said, finger trailing to a person holding a small knife. "And that is you," Legolas stated, pointing to a figure with a triangle dress, who had a look a fear drawn on her face. "And this is that orc! See, I am saving you!" he chuckled at the old adventure that seemed so scary at the time, but was now something they joked about.

Ilmare narrowed her eyes, laughing as she came to understanding. "Oh, I see now. But you did not draw the best part!"

Legolas cocked his head to the side. "And what would that be?"

"The part where I saved your sorry arse from a slow, painful death!"

The prince rapidly shook his head. "Too complicated." He looked at Ilmare as she laughed, watching her fair face.

Legolas had also noticed the increasing beauty of his closest friend. Her dark blue eyes were framed with thick lashes, making them stand out even more. Her hair was long and full, sometimes pulled up hastily, a few clumps of auburn hair escaping and resting on her round cheeks. But now, her hair was free and tossed over her shoulder. She was still petite, but was lithe in figure, always graceful at whatever she was doing. If she had chosen the path of a warrior, Legolas thought she would have been a great one.

"It's very good," said Ilmare, breaking the prince out of his brief musings.

"Really?"

The girl nodded. "That it, once you get past the fact that _none_ of these figures looks like actual things."

"That is the closest thing I will ever get to a compliment on my art from you!" he chuckled as he stood, snatching the sheet of paper from her hands and hanging it onto the wood of his desk. "There. Now I can remember my heroic acts all the time!"

Ilmare stood and tugged a strand of his long, blond hair playfully. "Might as well, because it's going to probably be the only heroic thing you ever do in your entire immortal life!"

"Perhaps…" Legolas said slowly, looking at Ilmare with a mischievous glint in his eye. "But I may have to save a damsel in distress, such as yourself."

Ilmare crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "I am not in distress."

"Not yet!" said Legolas as he lunged at the girl, attacking her sides with his hands, tickling her without mercy.

"Stop!" Ilmare gasped, laughing as she tried to pry his fingers from her sides, but to no prevail. Her legs gave out and she collapsed to the ground, still trying to slap away Legolas' hands. "Legolas, stop it you insufferable princeling!"

He paused his attack, but kept his hands still firmly on her sides. "Are you sure about not being a damsel in distress?"

Ilmare sighed over dramatically, placing the back of her hand on her forehead. "I am in _so _much distress!"

"Good," Legolas smirked as he hauled her off the ground. "So I _have _saved a distressed damsel. I think that is rather heroic…"

Ilmare brought her hand back to smack him in the back of his head, but Legolas' reflexes were too quick and he caught her hand before it was even close to hitting him.

"Oh," pouted Legolas playfully. "That is no way to thank your savior."

Ilmare snatched her wrist back. "Who saved me from himself?" she shook her head. "Very heroic, dear princeling."

Legolas opened his mouth to make a sarcastic reply, but his attentions were stolen when there was a soft knock on the door.

Aerin stood at the door, looking apologetic at interrupting their conversation. "I am sorry to intrude, but Ilmare, Andoiel has requested for you to go and pick some seregon vine. The healers are running low."

The girl sighed deeply and casted a sideways look at the prince beside her. "I guess this argument is going to have to wait. Farewell until next time, dear Princeling." Ilmare said as she left the room.

"Farewell, _thinnas!_" Legolas call, watching her retreating figure.

…

Ilmare huffed as she scanned the forest floor in search of the leafy vines. She was annoyed beyond measure that her day off had been interrupted by such an odious task! Why did she have to do it? There were plenty of healers who could have done this!

Ilmare shook her head bitterly as she stopped at the base of a redwood tree, searching for the thinnest vines, for they held more healing power than the thicker ones. The girl absent mindedly picked at the plant, placing them into a basket that hung from her arm.

_I was having such a nice time with Legolas…_ she thought bitterly as she carefully plucked the vines off the trunk of the tree.

Suddenly, the sound of footfalls reached Ilmare's sensitive ears, making her heart skip a beat. _Oh, no._ Ilmare thought. _No again…_

But as she listened more closely, the footfalls did not sound like the trudging of an orc, they sounded not too far off from an elf, just not as light footed.

Ilmare watched with worry as a figure burst from the tree line, looking at his surroundings wildly. The girl froze in fear as its gaze fell upon her, causing Ilmare to take a few steps back.

"Hello?" the figure said taking a few long strides towards Ilmare, stepping out of the shadows, revealing it was a man. He appeared to be in his late twenties, a shadow of a beard upon his chin. Ilmare studied his clothing, finding he was garbed strangely.

"Who are you?" asked Ilmare with as much strength as she could muster.

The man opened his mouth to answer, but stopped, his eyes growing as wide as dinner plates in realization. "Ilmare," he whispered, startling the girl. "Ilmare, is that you?"

The elfling took multiple steps back, visible unnerved. Who was this man, and how did he know who she was? Ilmare looked into his wide, dark brown eyes. "H-how do you know who I am?" she stuttered, trying to back up more, only to find that she had already pressed against the trunk of a tree.

The man narrowed his eyes. "You mean you don't remember me? Well, it had been sixteen years…" he said, suddenly reaching out and grabbing the charm that hung around her neck. Ilmare had never taken it off. "Still have this piece of junk, I see."

"Who _are_ you?" she repeated more forcefully, snatching the necklace from his hands and tucking it into her dress.

"It's me, Zach."

Ilmare narrowed her eyes in concentration… Zach… Zach! The girl gasped in realization. She had tried to remove any memory of her family before coming to Greenwood, the thoughts being too painful. But now, her brother was here, right before her very eyes.

"Oh Valar." Ilmare breathed.

Zach ignored the elflings frightful look and stood right before her, taking her young face in his hands, ignorant to how scared Ilmare was. "You are still so young… just like mother." Ilmare's heart clenched painfully at his words. "You look just like her, with the strange ears and everything. She hasn't aged…" He forced Ilmare to look up at him. "What are you?"

"A-an elf." Stuttered the girl.

"An elf?" exclaimed Zach, laughing. "Be serious, Ilmare."

The elfling jutted out her bottom lip defensively. "I _am_ being serious! And you are in Greenwood, a realm of elves."

The man rolled his eyes, still not believing her. "Well, whatever you are and where ever we are, we need to go back home!" he said, roughly grabbing her wrist and dragging her behind him.

"What?" burst Ilmare, trying to slap his hand away. "No! I am not going back there!"

This caused Zach to stop, raising an eyebrow at his step-sister. "Why would you not want to go back?"

Ilmare pressed her lips into a firm line. "Mother does not want me there," she said, ordering no tears to fall.

The man laughed bitterly. "If that were the case, I wouldn't have gotten in the amount of trouble I did when I let you go into these woods alone! Mother was furious and we looked for months for you!"

Ilmare's arms fell limply to her sides as her world shattered. Her mother did want her? She almost couldn't believe her ears. It changed everything…

"So," continued Zach as he began tugging on her arm again. "That's why we need to go back… now!"

Ilmare dug her heels into the ground, trying to stop herself from being dragged along. "Zach, stop!" she yelled, causing the man to falter and stop in his tracks, giving Ilmare a chance to speak. "Even if I _did_ want to go back, we cannot. I-I have tried…" it was not something Ilmare thought about often. During her first months of living in Greenwood, the girl would be struck by homesickness and would wander the same way she had come to see if she would end up back at home, but it never worked. She soon gave up trying and settled into life in the palace.

Zach rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on her wrist. She obviously didn't try hard enough. "Ilmare, stop being such a child! Come on!" he began his march again, paying no heed to the girl behind him.

"Zach, stop!" Ilmare cried, tugging with all her might in the opposite direction. "Please, let me go!"

"Let her go!" a voice demanded from behind them. Ilmare turned her frantic eyes to Legolas, his bow trained on her brother. The girl melted in relief.

Zach's lip curled into a sneer. "Who are you?"

"My name is Legolas, prince of Greenwood and I am ordering you to let Ilmare go." He said, a hard glint in his blue eyes.

Zach blinked a few times before looking down at the girl whose wrist he held tightly. The boy in front of him was dressed as strangely as his sister, holding a weapon not seen often where he had come from. "You-you were telling the truth…" how was this possible? He went into the woods and now was in another realm? Impossible…

Ilmare nodded rapidly. "Yes! Now please, Zach… let me go. There is no way back… you-you can stay in Greenwood with me."

The man narrowed his eyes in anger. What was wrong with her? The girl had been gone for so many years and now refuses to return to where she belongs? He never gave up looking for her, and this is how she repays him? "You can stay, dear sister, I don't care. But I am going back!" he spat and shoved her to the ground.

Legolas dropped his weapons and fell to his knees at his friend's side, taking her into her arms and sitting her up, watching with disgust as that man ran into the shadows of the trees. The prince almost went after him, but the shaking girl in his arms made him decide otherwise.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Ilmare nodded, cradling her wrist to her chest. It was red where Zach had grabbed her and was afraid she had sprained it trying to get out of his hold.

"Come on," Legolas murmured, hauling Ilmare off the ground and guiding her back to the halls. He had come out in plans to scare her, knowing her reaction would be amusing, but it seemed that she was already rather terrified by another.

Ilmare looked over her shoulder towards the direction where Zach had run off. "He will perish in these woods!" she breathed softly.

Legolas watched the concern in her eyes with confusion. Why would she worry about that man who had threatened to take her away? The prince racked his brain, replaying the scene in his head. Did he call her… _sister? _It couldn't have been. Surly he had misheard. "Ilmare, who was that man?"

"Someone from long ago." She said sadly, looking at her feet. "I-I have no idea how he came here." Ilmare told him truthfully.

"That is no way anyone should act to a lady." Spat Legolas.

Ilmare took a deep breath and shrugged, thinking back to when she used to live with him. Zach was always a difficult child, always getting into fights at school and arguing with their parents. "He was always so aggressive as a child; I would have thought he would have grown out of it."

Legolas was silent for a moment. "Is he your brother?"

Ilmare's shoulders slumped. "Yes," she said softly. "Not by blood, but he is- or was, my brother."

Legolas figured that he must have been adopted, for he was nothing like the gentle Ilmare.

Suddenly, the girl spun towards Legolas, gripping his hands tightly within her own. "Legolas," she said breathlessly. "I beg of you not to tell anyone of this!"

The young prince was dumbfounded. "Why?"

Ilmare sighed. "Zach may have done some things wrong, but he is still my brother… more or less. I do not want him being hunted down!"

"So we just don't say anything at all?" If the man was going to perish in the woods anyways, why not just make his death quicker?

Ilmare nodded. "We pretend like this never happened. No one will know any better."

Legolas brought her hand to his eyes. "What about your wrist? Wont you need it to be treated?"

Ilmare rolled her eyes. "It is a simple sprain, my dear Princeling. I think I can do it myself." It was in slight pain, but it would feel better once she wrapped it properly. Ilmare looked up at Legolas with pleading eyes. "Do you promise not to say anything?"

Legolas was silent for a moment, fighting an inner battle. If he stayed quiet, then the man who threatened to take Ilmare away was free, but if he spoke, Ilmare would be hurt, and Legolas didn't want that. The young prince sighed in defeat, eyes down cast. "As you wish _thinnas._"

Ilmare beamed. "Thank you."

Legolas simply grunted in response, before a sudden thought came to mind, causing him to smirk. "So does that count as saving a damsel in distress?"

His quip received him a hard smack on the back of his head.

…

Lightning sliced through the sky and thunder roared in response, the argument between the forces of nature happening late in the night.

Legolas laid in his bed, in deep sleep. Though this was the most violent and loud storm to ever grace Greenwood, it bothered him not.

Lighting illuminated the room, thunder cracking almost at the same time. It noise was deafening, but the young prince simply turned onto his side, the soft patter of raindrops pelting his window sounding more like music than a storm. Legolas always liked it when the weather was like this, but there was another who was not.

The young prince was awoken by desperate knocking at his door. Legolas rolled onto his back and groaned. Who could need anything at this unholy hour?

The knocking came again, followed by a flash of lightning.

"Legolas!" came a fearful squeak from the other side of the door. He knew instantly that it was Ilmare. The prince sighed and stepped out of bed, crossing the distance to the door in a few short strides.

"Ilmare," the prince mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes as he opened the door. "What is it?"

The girl was standing rigidly, hugging herself tightly. Ilmare had thrown a robe over her nightgown, but put nothing on her feet. Ilmare was not fond of thunderstorms. There had been a few before, but they had not been this violent. Most of the time, she had been able to burrow into the blankets and cover her ears with a pillow and block out the sound, but not this time.

Another bolt of lightning illuminated Ilmare's terrified face for a brief second, allowing Legolas to see her fear, before she threw her arms around him, cringing as thunder boomed. Ilmare could feel the vibrations under her feet.

Legolas was startled for a moment, looking down at Ilmare who held him tightly. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "It's alright, Ilmare." He soothed, rubbing her back. He gently shut the door, smoothing down the back of her hair. "It is okay, just calm down."

He felt her nod against his chest, and then, he heard her humming. It was an upbeat tune, bouncing with jolly notes. Legolas had never heard it before.

"What are you singing?"

Ilmare took a shaky breath and looked at the boy in the eyes, wiping her cheeks. "It's a song from a long time ago. It is supposed to make you feel better when you are hurt, scared, or sad…" she explained. This was something that Ilmare refused to forget, the song always bringing comfort to her, even if she didn't remember where is was from anymore.

Legolas raised a brow. "What is it called?"

"My favorite things…" Ilmare chuckled slightly.

"Hmm," said Legolas thoughtfully. "You know, I am awfully frightened of this storm… perhaps you would like to sing it to me?"

Ilmare laughed, knowing that he was humoring her, but bowed dramatically anyways. "As you wish, my dear Princeling." She said, taking a deep breath before quietly singing the lyrics that she had never forgotten. "_Rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens…_"

Ilmare did not have a voice like some of the other elves of Greenwood, but it was pleasant enough to listen to. Legolas found himself grinning at the words.

"What are you smiling about?" Ilmare exclaimed, cringing when thunder rumbled again.

"Oh, nothing." Legolas said. "I just very much like the whiskers on kittens…" he chuckled. "But do go on!"

The girl rolled her eyes and continued anyways. "_Silver white winters that melt into springs, these are a few of my favorite things_." Ilmare paused as Legolas bowed deeply. "What _are_ you doing?"

"May I have this dance, my lady?"

Ilmare laughed loudly, but gave an over the top curtsy in return. "How can I refuse?" she giggled as Legolas took her hands in his, careful of her wrist, which she had bound. He looked at her expectantly. "What?"

"Keep going! That cannot be the whole song!"

Ilmare scrunched up her face, but continued singing. "_Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, snowflakes that stay on my nose and eye lashes…" _she continued to sing with laughter in her voice as they spun in circles around the room. The girl faltered a step when a particularly loud clap of thunder echoed through the forest, making her cringe.

"It is alright, Ilmare!" Legolas assured. "Think of it as… music!"

Ilmare raised a brow. "I am not sure what kind of music you listen to, Legolas, but I do not listen to songs such as this." It was a symphony of too many drum beat as crashes of symbols. To Ilmare, it was over whelming.

"Just _try_ and think of it like that!" Legolas begged.

"Fine," said Ilmare begrudgingly. She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to picture the thunder as deep drum, the howling wind as a sorrowful voice, and the pitter-patter of the rain on the window a strange beat. He was right; it made the storm more bearable. Ilmare opened her eyes a crack, seeing the smug face of Legolas.

"Better?"

Ilmare narrowed her eyes. "Perhaps…"

The prince looked rather proud of himself as he began swaying to the beat of the storm. "Alright now, finished the song!"

The pair spent a long time singing and dancing around the room, laughing and teasing until long after the storm had stopped. Once they had tired completely, the pair collapsed breathlessly onto the window seat, Ilmare falling deeply asleep on the shoulder of her friend.

…

At the first sign of dawn, a servant went to go awake the young prince for training, as he did every day. He knocked softly on the door of Legolas' room, to alert the boy to his presence before he entered.

"Prince Legolas…" the servant said, expecting the elfling to be fast asleep in his bed, but the elf's eyes widened in great shock as he found the prince fast asleep on the window seat, one arm around the shoulder of the young girl who had lived with the royal family for all these years.

The servant pressed his lips in a tight line and left the room, standing awkwardly outside the door for a few moments, trying to gather his bearings. Elves were forbidden to have relations with another of the opposite gender until they were of age… it didn't _look_ like the pair was up to anything of that sort, but it still made the elf feel rather uncomfortable.

"Lady Aerin," he said as the elleth went to awaken the girl. "I wouldn't bother. She is in here."

Aerin's eyes bulged. Why on earth would Ilmare be in his room at such a time? "Oh…" she said quietly. "I will- uh, alert the queen to this matter."

The elf nodding quickly, thankful that he would not have to speak about this to Lady Melian. He scampered off without another word.

Aerin took a deep breath and she strode over to the kings study, where he and his wife always spent their mornings looking over important documents and letters from other realms. The elleth slowly lifted her hand and knocked timidly on the door. A heart beat later, the queen opened it, seeming surprised to see Aerin there.

"Good morning, my queen." Said the elleth respectfully. Aerin pointed a few doors down to the princes' room. "I believe that you would wish to deal with this…"

Melian looked at the elleth curiously, wondering what she meant, but nodded anyways, quickly making her way to her sons room and opening the door, now seeing what Aerin had spoken about.

Ilmare had her knees tucked beside her, her cheek presses softly against Legolas' shoulder. It was clear they were both fast asleep.

The queen quietly made her way across the room, stopping before Ilmare, lightly touching the girls arm and awakening her.

Ilmare blinked her sleepy blue eyes, her vision slowly becoming clear. Oh, how she was annoyed at Aerin for waking her up! She was sleeping so well!

But as Ilmare looked at the face before her, she was surprised to find it was not that of her handmaiden, but the face of the queen.

_What is the queen doing in my room?_ The elfling thought, but as she looked at her surroundings, she found that she was not in her room, but in Legolas'.

Ilmare felt someone shift beside her, and saw that it was none other than the prince his self. The girl's eyes widened, looking up at the queen with worry.

Melian placed a finger to her lips, not needing Legolas to get into this fiasco. Ilmare nodded and carefully removed the princes arm form around her shoulder, quietly following the queen across the room and out the door, hanging her head in shame.

"I am so sorry, my lady!" whimpered Ilmare once the door has closed behind them. "That was very improper of me! It was just last night with the thunderstorm, and I was so scared so I went to Legolas and-"

Melian held up one hand, silencing the girls babble. "Ilmare, I am not angry with you, do not worry. I was simply surprised. It was a… strange position to be in." she studied the young elf curiously.

_She looks just like her,_ Melian thought, watching the elflings wide blue eyes look anywhere but her face. _Is it possible? No… she disappeared years ago…_

Ilmare felt the blood rush up to her cheeks as she studied the floor. They didn't do anything that was forbidden, but the situation would be looked down upon. "It was my fault, please to do blame Legolas."

"I blame neither of you," the queen said, placing a hand on the girls head. "We will just forget that it happened, alright?"

Ilmare nodded vigorously. "Yes, my lady." And with that, she scurried into her room, followed closely behind Aerin, who was chuckling at the elflings reaction.

Ilmare shot the elleth a rather annoyed look. "It is not funny!" she cried as her handmaiden shut the door behind them.

"Oh, whatever you say!" Aerin laughed. "I would bet pure gold that the two of you will be bound the moment you are of age!"

Ilmare was aghast, mouth opening and closing wordlessly at Aerin's comment. "It is not like that!" the girl hissed, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly. "I do not see him like that… besides, you and Tamarthon have probably gotten up to much more!" she laughed at the elleth's stunned expression. "When are you two going to bind anyways? You are obviously in love."

Aerin smacked Ilmare on the back of the head. "That is no concern of yours!"

"Oh, yes it is!" argued the elfling. "I want to be there for the ceremony!" she said as she slipped a maroon dress over her head, giving her back to Aerin to work out the laces.

"No doubt you will be!" said Aerin, tugging the laces a bit harder than normal, making Ilmare grunt. "While Legolas is here, I highly doubt you will be leaving!"

Ilmare ignored her last comment, pretending she didn't hear it. Instead, she rubbed her stomach. "Are you trying to kill me?" the girl stood and pulled her hair out of her face, braiding it over her shoulder.

Aerin playfully tugged at the end of the braid. "Do you remember when you used to let me do your hair nicely?"

"Yes I do!" stated Ilmare as she swatted the elleth's hand away. "That was before I began to study healing and found out that it will not stay in place while I run my hands through it!"

Aerin laughed, but something strange caught her eye while Ilmare was slapped at her hands. The girl's wrist was bound tightly by bandages.

"Did you hurt yourself, Ilmare?"

"Oh," said the girl, gripping her wrist, trying to think of a quick lie. She spoke quickly. "Yesterday, when I went to get the seregon, I heard Legolas come after me, so I try to climb a tree so scare him, but I fell and sprained my wrist." Ilmare hoped that it was convincing enough, and then slid the sleeve of her dress over the bandages.

"I see…" said Aerin, with a feeling that she wasn't telling the whole truth. She skipped to a lighter note. "Well, get going then! Don't want to be late, do we?"

"No," said Ilmare, shoving some shoes onto her feet. "Of course not! Farewell, Aerin! I will see you later!" the girl called as she dashed out of the room, leaving Aerin to wonder what the girl was trying to hide.

…

Later in the evening, after a long day of healing some minor wounds and studying some of the more advanced books that Andoiel had given her, Ilmare was grateful when dinner came around. She found that she was rather hungry, quickly taking her seat next to the queen and tucking into her meal.

There was some light chatter between the queen, Legolas, and Ilmare while they ate. They king was running a few minutes late, but he arrived eventually while Legolas was regaling them a tale of the sparring match he had against a young warrior named Amandal today, who was only a few hundred years their senior, and how he almost won.

"Almost," Ilmare was quick to point out, chuckling. "He still beat you!"

Before the prince could rebuttal, the king spoke.

"I have some good news," Thranduil said as he took his spot at the head of the table.

"And what would that be?" Asked Melian as she dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

"Lord Elrond of Rivendell will be visiting Greenwood with in the week." He answered and turned to Legolas. "He has two sons around your age, Legolas." he paused and turned to Ilmare. "And a daughter as well…"

Ilmare's eyes widened. Other elflings! She looked to Legolas across the table, already seeing he was plotting what trouble that he and Elrond's sons will get into… and of course, drag Ilmare down with him. As usual.

Legolas caught Ilmare's eye. "I cannot wait, father!"

The girl sighed softly. Oh, this will be interesting.


	6. Chapter 6

Ilmare fell in a heap onto her messy bed, taking a break for what felt like the first time in days. Her healing training had been rather difficult this week, Andoiel piling new work to study on her heavily, leaving the girl to feel as though she was drowning in it.

Ilmare had been tested on new healing plants and their properties, learning the difference between the poisonous Lairlosse flower from the helpful Laurinque bud, and there was even a small accident during the warrior training; the young elf Amandal being clumsy and cut himself deeply in the knee with a long knife, trying to twirl them like the elders. It required much work to heal it completely so that he would not be forever marred. He sliced open an artery, also cutting a tendon that if not repaired correctly, would mar his walk for the rest of his life. Of course, they had been able to stitch the wound together, saving the elf of any disability, but Ilmare was forced to run around the room, fetching whatever the other healers needed at their whim.

Thankfully, Andoiel had seen the elflings weariness and granted her a well need break.

So, there Ilmare lay, resting her worn-out limbs and taking deep, even breaths. She felt herself begin to doze off, feeling as though she had gotten no sleep the last few nights. The girls' wrist had now fully healed from the sprain and she no longer had to bind it, for which she was thankful.

Ilmare nearly jumped out of her skin at the knock at her door. She cursed under her breath as she angrily marched across the room and flung open the door, finding Aerin standing outside holding her hands behind her back.

"Ilmare!" she exclaimed, seeing the elfling's disgruntled appearance. "You look exhausted!"

The girl made a fist and rubbed her sleep coated eyes. "That's because I am."

Aerin tilted her head to the side in pity. "I am sorry for that, but the scouts have just reported that Lord Elrond and his Family will be here within a few minutes."

Ilmare raised a brow. "What does that have to do with me?"

"All most everyone in Greenwood is going to the welcoming ceremony."

A light groan escaped Ilmare. "I still do not see why I have to go! What is one extra elf there? No one will notice."

Aerin stubbornly placed her hands on her tiny waist. "You are going, Ilmare! And that is that!" she stated, pointing at the girls chest. "And you are going to like it!"

Ilmare sighed and smoothed down her hair, following Aerin out the door. "You can make me go, but not make me like it!" she grumbled under her breath, sorely missing the comfort of her messy bed.

The elleth raised a stern brow down at the elfling, but made no comment as they followed the throng of other elves out the gates and into the sun.

Ilmare's keen eyes scanned the crowd, quickly locating Legolas standing with his mother and father in front of the crowd. The young Prince was speaking to his mother, nodding his head while he listened to whatever she was saying. The king was speaking to the scout, double checking if the estimated time of arrival was correct.

Aerin stood with the girl in the back of the crowd, looking over the heads of others in front of her to glimpse into the tree line, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their guests. Lord Elrond and his family had visited before, but it had been a long time since then. Over forty years, Aerin believed.

Ilmare didn't bother trying to see over the elves in front of her, she knew it would be fruitless. She was still very short and the other elves of Greenwood were all rather tall. Soon, the sound of hooves beating against the forest floor reached Ilmare's ears and an excited murmur spread throughout the crowd.

At the front of the group, Legolas stood a bit taller, expectant blue eyes trained on the shadow of the woods. The sound of horses could be heard by all, growing louder with every passing second. The noise reached its peak, and with it, at least fifteen horses burst out of the shade of the trees.

Cheers erupted from the elves along with cries of welcome. Ilmare clapped from the back, knowing by the sounds around her that the Rivendell elves had arrived.

"Welcome!" boomed Thranduil, stepping towards Elrond as he dismounted his horse. He beamed at the elf before him as they grasped each other's forearms firmly. "It is wonderful to see you again, _mellon nin_."

The elf lord beamed, nodding in respect. "Thank you, Thranduil." Elrond turned and helped his wife, Celebrian, off her horse.

Her blonde hair sparkled in the sun as she smooth down the front of her grey riding dress, looking upon Greenwood with eyes that rivaled the beauty of the sea. It had been a long time since she had last laid eyes upon the halls of Greenwood. The trees stood tall and proud, reaching up towards the sky as if trying to touch the clouds. The leaves swayed in the breeze, like a dance. It was so different from Lorien, where she had grown, but just as beautiful. She gave a low curtsy to Thranduil. "It is a pleasure to see you again, my lord." Celebrian said, before bringing Melian into a tight embrace.

"It is good to see you again," said the queen as she squeezed her dear friend's shoulders.

Several Rivendell guards dismounted from their horses, thankful to stretch their sore legs. They began the task of unpacking some of the items they had brought along as Elladan and Elrohir slipped off their horses, rushing to help their younger sister off her horse.

"Thank the Valar we are here!" sighed Arwen as she brushed a few pieces of horse hair off her skirt. "I am sure my legs would have fallen off from so little use if we did not get here when we did!"

Elrohir chuckled good naturedly and mussed his sister's long hair. "Oh, you and your imagination."

Arwen glared up at her brother as she followed them towards where the Greenwood royal family stood, greeting their mother and father. The twins approached Thranduil slowly, bowing their heads in unison towards the ground.

The king beamed at the two elflings, seeing how much they had grown. He clasped them both on their shoulders. "It has been a long time, young ones." The last time Thranduil had visited Rivendell; they had been babes, swaddled in blankets and held in their mother's arms.

Melian smiled down at Arwen, studying her young face. The queen knelt down so that they were eye level. "It is nice to meet you, child. You look just as beautiful as your mother!"

The young girl blushed and looked at her feet. "Thank you, my lady."

The children moved on towards Legolas, meeting the young prince for the first time. Elladan and Elrohir, being about five years or so older than Legolas stood a few inches taller. Arwen, being a few years younger, stood a few inches smaller… yet, still taller than Ilmare. Legolas couldn't wait to make fun of her about it, though he had not seen the girl today.

"It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, prince Legolas." Elrohir said, bowing low along with his brother while their sister practiced her curtsy.

The prince nodded in respect. "The same goes to you," he said, practicing the line drilled into his mind from manner studies.

Thranduil finished greeting Lord Elrond and his family, he turned to his people, holding up a hand and silencing their cheers. He paused a heart beat before speaking in a grand voice. "May I present, Lord Elrond of Rivendell! Now, let the welcoming ceremony begin!"

A joyous cry erupted from the elves as they began filing into the great hall, where the festivities would be held, along with a huge feast later in the evening.

From the back of the group, Ilmare slipped through the rest of the elves, going in a separate direction. The halls were completely empty, everyone gone to enjoy the festivities. She enjoyed the silence, the only sound being her own footfalls. Ilmare quickly made her way into her room, collapsing in a heap on her bed, not bothering to change into her night gown.

_No one will notice I'm gone,_ Ilmare thought as she fell into a deep sleep.

Well, at least that's what she thought.

…

About an hour into the festivities, Queen Melian noticed the absence of a certain elfling. She scanned the crowd, searching for a flash of auburn in the crowd, but not finding her. Melian furrowed her brows and made her way over to Legolas, who was speaking with Elrond's sons.

"My son," she said, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. "Where is Ilmare?"

Legolas shrugged. "I have no idea. I have not seen her all day."

Melian sighed and left her son to converse with their guest, going to ask Aerin if she had seen the elfling.

"Who is Ilmare?" asked Elladan as Melian walked away.

Legolas turned to his companions. "Another elfling," he explained.

"Really?" said Arwen. "There is another elfling here?"

Legolas nodded. "Yes, she has lived here for many years and is training in the art of healing."

Arwen gasped and smiled widely. "An elleth?" she had never met any other elflings besides her brothers until today. She never knew there was another female elfling anywhere close to her.

"Why is she not here?" Elrohir questioned.

Legolas pursed his lips and thought. Why wasn't she here? Surely she would want a bit of fun after all the training she had to do. "I do not know. Perhaps she will come during the feast."

From then on, the young Prince kept a careful eye on the door, watching to see if Ilmare entered. She never did. Not even through the feast… it wasn't like her to miss a meal, she never did. Was something wrong with her?

Legolas enjoyed the rest of the evening, for it was merry and joyful, filled with singing and dancing and laughter… but Ilmare was always there in the back of her mind.

_I will check in on her after dinner is finished,_ he decided as he took a small sip of his drink. _I am sure she is fine… I just need to stop worrying._

So, Legolas had a nice time with Elladan and Elrohir and even Arwen. The twins told stories of all the trouble that they had gotten into back at their home, which included a rather detailed tale of how they had thrown Arwen into a fish pond while she was asleep. It was safe to say that the young girl was very unhappy about it and hit Elrohir in the head rather hard with a spoon. It left a red mark, but they all laughed about it in the end.

Soon, Arwen let out a mighty yawn, her eyes half lidded and heavy with weariness. Queen Melian, of course, noticed this.

"Legolas," she said, waving her hand in the direction of the other elflings. "Why don't you show then to their quarters?"

The prince nodded and stood from his chair, thankful to be getting away from the noise of the great hall. It was getting around the time of night when many of the elves had drunk more than their fill, and were beginning to become more tipsy and loud than before. It was rather annoying.

"Come," said Legolas, nodding his head towards the direction of the door. "This way."

The children of Elrond followed the young prince, Elladan hoisting his sister onto his back and carried her so that she did not have to use her tired legs.

They made the rest of the way to their rooms almost in silence, the travelers all being tired from their journey. Legolas swept open the doors to the royal hall, eyeing Ilmare's room for a split second before reaching their guests rooms, stopping before the doors.

"These will be your rooms for your stay," Legolas announced, turning the door handle. "I hope you have a restful night."

Elrohir nodded in thanks. "_Hannon le, mellon nin._" He breathed, closing the door in his wake.

Legolas stood in silence for a heartbeat longer after the door was shut before turning swiftly and standing before Ilmare's room.

_I will see if she is in her room, and then go to sleep. _He decided, using the pads of his fingers to lightly push open the door. He peeked inside the dimly lit room, a candle burning down to its last moments on the bedside table illuminated the room, showing Ilmare curled on her side in a tight ball.

Legolas smirked fondly at the sleeping girl. That's where she had been the entire time? She slept through the festivities! He could have laughed if there wasn't a threat of waking her up and facing her wrath. Legolas blew out the candle, a puff of smoke flowing upwards and tickling his nose.

"_Ollo vae, thinnas._"

…

Ilmare awoke the next day feeling more energized and refreshed than she had remembered being in a long time. She yawned widely as she sat up, smacking her mouth as she wondered what time it could be.

_I slept a long time,_ Ilmare thought as she slid out of bed, cringing at the state of her now wrinkled dress. _I must have slept through the entire of the festivities last night._

Ilmare sighed, but didn't regret the rest she had last night. She felt she needed to catch up on her sleep, and now she had and was ready to face whatever the day had in store.

Ilmare went through her morning routine; changing her dress, washing her face, and taming her wild hair… that one always took the longest. It never liked to corporate in the mornings. Ilmare chuckled to herself as she ran a brush through her locks, remembering the nick-name she had made for it a while ago. _The spider's nests._ So tangled at times, it looked like the webs of the small spiders that sometimes made their homes in the far reaches of the halls.

Ilmare studied herself in the mirror that hung on the wall, tilting her head to the side as she smoothed the front of her skirts. It was a deep green, satin dress. It did not have laces in the back, for Aerin was not there this morning. Ilmare didn't blame her; she probably had a bit too much wine the night before.

_I rather_ _liked this dress,_ she decided, running her fingers over the gold stitching on the bodice.

Ilmare wiped the last bit of sleep from her eyes as she shuffled out of the washroom, stepping into a pair as shoes as she walked through the room and towards the door. The girl tossed her hair over her shoulder, choosing to leave it free and not bound in a braid. Ilmare almost laughed at the fact that so many elves were not awake yet, probably still in bed, nursing pounding headaches.

She quickly made her way towards the dining room, feeling rather hungry for she skipped dinner the night before. Ilmare easily waltzed into the room, but froze as many unfamiliar faces sat at the table.

She stood in shock, forgetting about Lord Elrond and his family being here. Ilmare mentally kicked herself. How could this slip her mind?

In reality, Ilmare had been worried about meeting this family. She wasn't of royal or even noble blood. Hell, Ilmare didn't even know why she was still living this close to them. She felt like an imposter being here in this moment.

From the table, Elrohir elbowed his brother in the ribs, turning Elladan's attention from bugging his sister, to the new edition to the room. They studied her for a moment before the twins shared a knowing look. She was pretty, no doubt.

Ilmare blinked a few times, words getting caught in her throat. "M-my apologies. I-it was my mistake…"

Melian furrowed her brows at the frantic elfling. What was she on about? "Ilmare, child. It is alright. Come and sit."

The girl hesitated for a heart beat before taking her seat next to the queen, looking down at her lap and twiddling with her thumbs. She almost couldn't take the deafening silence. Thankfully, a soft, feminine voice reached her ears.

"So, you are the young elfling who is so talented in healing?"

Ilmare looked up at the source of the words, seeing a beautiful elleth with long, golden hair. She was wearing an off-white gown and a small smile upon her fair lips. Ilmare knew her name… Celebrian.

Ilmare blushed at her words. "I would not say I am too talented quite yet…"

Celebrian laughed. "That is not what I have heard! Lady Melian spoke of how you saved the young Prince from the poisoned wound eight years ago."

Ilmare looked at Legolas, who made a face.

"Oh…" Ilmare said softly. "Yes, that did happen."

"Really?" said a young voice from across the table. Ilmare looked to another elfling around her age with a beautiful face and long, dark hair.

Ilmare gave a small nod, causing the girl to beam. "Did you know my _ada_ is a master healer?"

_I did not know that,_ she thought, looking at the lord sitting beside her husband. "That is amazing."

Elrond gave a miniscule smile and took a long draught from his goblet. Ilmare thought he didn't seem like a kind of person to smile a lot. He had a rather serious air about him… almost uptight, but Ilmare would not voice this opinion out loud.

"How _did_ Legolas end up getting poisoned?" asked one of the twins. Ilmare almost couldn't believe that they were two different people. They were so alike that she knew she would never be able to tell them apart.

"I was saving her butt from an untimely death," Legolas answered, nodding at the girl seated across from him.

"Ah," said the twin that had not spoken yet, giving a quick nod. "An eye for an eye!"

Legolas chuckled. "I would not say that. She was uninjured, thanks to me."

Ilmare raised a brow. "And you are alive, because of me!" This was a debate that they had many times. Legolas would argue that if she hadn't gotten caught than he would not have been injured in the first place. Ilmare would scoff and say that it didn't matter, she still saved him!

"Not this conversation again," murmured Thranduil, holding his head in his hand.

"Legolas," Melian interrupted quickly before they began this argument again. "Why don't you and Ilmare show the children around the forest a bit?"

The young prince nodded and stood from his seat. He swiftly snatched a bright red apple from the center of the table. "Hey, _thinnas!_ Catch!" he threw the fruit with a quick flick of the wrist, a flash of crimson cutting through the air on its way to its target.

Ilmare reacted as quickly as she could, just barely managing to follow the fruit into her hands with her eyes, holding it in the palms of her hands. She gave Legolas a pointed look, but was unable to keep the amusement out of her eyes. "Thanks,"

"Legolas," Melian scolded, narrowing her eyes. "You know you are not supposed to throw food,"

The young Prince simply shrugged, and motioned for the other elflings to follow him out the door. "Sorry, _naneth._ It won't happen again."

Ilmare held in the laughter that threatened to come to surface. She reached Legolas' side and gently nudged his shoulder with her own. He looked down at the girl from the corner of his eye, smirking in amusement as the doors closed behind them.

Ilmare slowed the pace of her walk so that she stood beside the children of Elrond. "Hello. I do not believe we have been formally introduced," she placed a hand on her chest. "I am Ilmare."

"It is nice to meet you," said the girl, her cheeks dusted pink. "I am Arwen."

"I am Elladan," said one of the twins.

"And I am Elrohir," stated the other.

Arwen pouted her lips and made a small fist, hitting the boy closest to her on the arm, causing him to take a sharp intake of breath and rubbed where her hand had hit him.

"Do not believe them, Ilmare." Said Arwen, glaring up at her brothers. "It is the other way around. They think it's funny to do that."

Elladan chuckled. "It usually is, dear sister. That is, when you do not spoil it."

Ilmare found herself laughing at the brothers' antics. "Then I must thank you for telling me this, Arwen."

The girl gave Ilmare a tiny smile. "It was no problem," Arwen paused, studying the elfling in front of her. "So, what _is_ the true story behind the orc and poison?"

Ilmare looked over at Legolas, who was in a light conversation with Elrohir. She didn't want him to over hear what she was about to tell Arwen. "It was my fault in the first place," she said in a hushed voice. "But I resent hearing him say it, so I argue."

Arwen and Ilmare broke out into a fit of giggles, causing the boys to look over at them in confusion.

"What is so funny, _thinnas_?" questioned Legolas as they walked through the front gates.

"Oh, nothing, my dear princeling." Ilmare answered through laughs.

Elrohir raised a brow at their nicknames for each other. "Who came up with those titles?"

"We did," Legolas explained. "Back when we were no more than twelve, I would think." He turned to Ilmare. "Right?"

She nodded in confirmation. "That would be correct." Ilmare paused as she remembered the day more clearly. "That was the day you introduced me to Avolozir's sweet cakes."

Legolas nodded. "You are right."

Before Ilmare could reply, she found herself having her arms locked with both of the twins on either side of her. She was startled to say the least, not expecting this to happen.

"Come now!" said Elrohir. "Let us begin the tour of the beautiful Greenwood forest!"

"Agreed," piped in Elladan from Ilmare's other side as they began to guide her into the trees. "I am very much looking forwards to it!"

Legolas watched from behind in confusion. Ilmare sent him a questioning look from over her shoulder, to which he replied with a shrug. She look rather uncomfortable in-between the two elves.

"Ah," said Arwen from beside him. "They are flirting."

Legolas raised a brow. "Are elflings allowed to have relationships before coming of age in Rivendell?" He would have found it strange if it was, for he was certain that all elves shared this belief.

Arwen rapidly shook her head. "Oh no. My brothers like to think of themselves as bachelors already. They flirt with elleth's that have already come of age, but they do not have relationships." She chuckled to herself. "They like to call it _Long term investments_."

Legolas returned his gaze to the three elflings in front of him. He suddenly had a strange sensation in his chest as he watched the brothers laugh and walk so close to Ilmare. What was this feeling? Legolas made a face and willed the withering sensation to leave.

There was nothing to worry about, Ilmare was just a friend.

**Authors note: (You don't have to read this)**

**I would like to leave a message to the guest that reviewed on my last chapter. If she is still reading, I doubt it since it sounded like she disliked my story.**

**Anyways, I wish I could say I appreciated your review, but it made me feel rather horrible. I would have been okay with it if it was constructive criticism, but it was not. You simply pointed out everything you found wrong in my story.**

**I am a young writer and only do this in my spare time. I have not taken classes for writing so this is all a learning experience. Plots and characters are hard to get down, but I am working on it. All plots are going to have something wrong with it, but I am working very hard to get everything right.**

**As for Ilmare's reasoning for her parents not wanting her, she is supposed to be a child. Her logic is going to be flawed, but so was everyone else's at six years old. Children are naïve and do not think as we would now. And if you have anything on elven aging processes, please correct me instead of just telling me I am wrong.**

**I do know Melian is a Maia. And there is no right to call me lazy after naming the queen after her. I spend a very long time thinking of the names for all the characters I add into this story. Her name was the one I thought fit the queen's personality. I looked up many other names as well, but this one fit the best.**

**The part with the traveling to Greenwood is that it is supposed to be magic. She came from our world to Greenwood with magic. (Why will be explained later). She did not walk all the way from the border of Greenwood to the halls of the forest.**

**The rest of your review got cut off because of length.**

**I will put this out now; all my information in here is going to be a bit off. For example, the time lines and ages will be completely not canon, but this is a fanfiction. I am borrowing the world of Tolkien and making it into something of my own. I will make up Greenwood laws and customs because I think that they go along with my story, so don't take my word for it. **

**Fanfiction isn't supposed to be perfect. It's supposed to be fun and interesting to read and write. Do not take it so seriously. Just enjoy it!**

**Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!**


	7. Chapter 7

"How are you enjoying Greenwood so far?" Ilmare said awkwardly to the two elflings guided her along some of the walking paths. She found it ironic that they were the ones taking her for a stroll when that was the job appointed to her and Legolas earlier.

"I like it very much so far," answered the one who she thought was Elladan. Ilmare noted that they twins wore their hair different. The brother who just spoke wore his hair loose and free-flowing while Elladan kept his dark locks tightly braided. "It is very different than Rivendell,"

Ilmare raised a brow. "How so?"

Elladan sighed and looked into the distance, fondly thinking of his home. "Rivendell is full of deep valleys and roaring waterfalls. On some days, the water sounds more like a lullaby than noise. You can fall asleep almost anywhere."

Ilmare pictured the scene in her head, softly shutting her eyes as images played in the back of her head. Her large eyes flickered open, giving a small smirk to each elfling. "I would like to see it one day,"

Elrohir laughed heartily. "I would hope you would come to visit us one day!" he said, nudging the girl in the shoulder. "Hopefully before the next age!"

Ilmare chuckled lightly as the brothers clapped each other on the back. Suddenly, she heard laughter that did not belong to her or the twins. Ilmare discreetly looked over her shoulder, watching Legolas speak to Arwen. She was laughed at something that he had said, putting a dainty hand over her mouth.

Ilmare's lips pressed together tightly at the sight, her jaw clenching . She was surprised to find herself grinding her teeth. Ilmare shook herself and turned her sight back in front of her before anyone noticed her staring.

_What are you stressing about?_ The girl hissed to herself. _They are simply having a conversation._ Ilmare took a deep breath and recomposed herself, almost forcing the corners of her lips to quirk up.

"What are some activities you like to do?" asked Elladan, making small talk. "You know, besides healing."

"Well," Ilmare began slowly. "When I do find time in-between training, I enjoy drawing and reading."

Elrohir's chin tucked back in question. "You do not like archery or sword play?"

Ilmare laughed loudly. "Valar, no. that is Legolas' talent, not mine."

"It is rather fun once you get the hang of it," Elrohir continued. "You do not even wish to try?"

Ilmare shook her head. "I heal the wounds weapons create; I do not want to cause them."

"You never know," he said, shrugging. "There may come a day when you will need to defend yourself. You may need to know how to handle a blade."

Ilmare scoffed. "I highly doubt it. Greenwood is very safe and I do not plan on joining the army anytime soon,"

They were walking along the Forest River, the waters softly lapping over smooth stone making a peaceful sound. The sunlight reflected off of the surface, sending beams in every direction. Ilmare watched as fat fish darted and weaved through rocks that jutted out of the river. She was sure to keep her distance from the edge. The water wasn't rough, but it was deep. She was always a bit embarrassed to admit that she could not swim. Ilmare never saw the need to learn.

Elladan suddenly stopped in his tracks, halting Ilmare and Elrohir along with him. He looked towards his brother. "I am feeling rather warm, are you as well, brother?"

Elrohir caught his eye and smirked. "I agree. The water is looking very nice. I think I would like a quick dip." He turned to the girl at his side, raising a brow. "Would you care to join, Ilmare?"

She quickly shook her head and took another step back from the water's edge. "Oh, no thank you. I would prefer to stay off to the side."

"Nothing's wrong with a bit of water," Elladan reasoned.

Ilmare firmly shook her head again. "I am not a big fan of swimming…" she said slowly, holding up her hands.

The boy huffed. "Well, you never know if you do not try."

With that, he tossed Ilmare over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She gasped in shock, being swooped up so quickly, but the shock wore off quick replaced by annoyance.

"Let me down!" Ilmare demanded, pounding on Elrohir's back. The girl tried to wiggle out of his hold, but he kept a tight grip on her lower back. "Put me down you insufferable elf!"

He only laughed along with Elladan as they walked towards the edge of the water.

Ilmare glanced at where they were heading, her annoyance immediately changing to panic. "Stop! Drop me!"

"Did you hear that, brother?" Elrohir said in-between laughs. "I think we should listen to her!"

"Aye," Elladan agreed. He grabbed Ilmare under the arms while his brother grabbed her legs. "We will drop her on the count of three. One…"

"Stop!" Ilmare shrieked, trying to kick Elrohir away. "Please stop!" she was begging now, tears pricking her eyes.

"Two…" the twins said in unison, swinging Ilmare back and forth.

"Elladan, stop it!" she cried frantically. "Elrohir, please!"

"Three!"

They tossed Ilmare into the chilly water, her head dunking below the surface. She was enveloped, the water around her small frame putting pressure on her limbs. The girl flailed her arms, her nose and mouth just being able to break the surface and take a quick lungful of air before her dress became water logged and dragged her back under.

Ilmare opened her eyes underwater, seeing her dress flow around her as she sunk down deeper. She tried to kick her legs, but they were tangled in her skirts.

"Where is she?" Elladan asked Elrohir on the shore, trying to look through the water.

Just then, Legolas came jogging up beside the twins, Arwen in his wake. The prince saw the disturbance in the water, eyes widening in realization. "Is she in the water?" he question. The twins nodded and Legolas looked in horror at the water. "She cannot swim!"

"What?" Arwen squeaked, but Legolas was already running into the water. Before any one of the siblings could blink an eye, his golden head disappeared under the surface.

Legolas' keen eyes searched through the water, quickly locating Ilmare. She was clawing at the water, bubbles escaping her lips and floating up above. Legolas kicked his legs powerfully and cut through the water, reaching his friends side. He snaked an arm around his waist and tried to pull her to the surface. The weight of her thick dress making it a struggle. Ilmare watched Legolas' movements and attempted to mimic him, making it much easier on the prince. Her lungs were burning and screaming for air.

Her mouth opened and closed uselessly, the surface only a few feet away.

_Hold on, Ilmare_. She told herself. _You are almost there._

They breached, flinging water droplets through the air. Ilmare gasped for breath in-between coughing and spluttering water out of her lungs. She held onto Legolas with all the strength left in her arms and struggled to tread water along with him.

Legolas blinked water from his eyes, clearing his vision. His head swiveled around, quickly locating the shore. Elladan was waist deep in the water and was wading closer to the pair. He kicked his legs, propelling them towards the shallower waters. Legolas' muscles screamed in protest, but he blocked out his discomfort and focused on getting Ilmare out of the water.

Ilmare tried to make it easier on Legolas, trying to keep her head above the water on her own. She was thankful when they reached the shallows, Elladan grabbing her from Legolas and supporting her to the shore.

Ilmare collapsed upon the rocky ground, falling to her hands and knees, her shoulders shaking violently as she coughed. She was vaguely aware of someone rubbing small circles on her back. Once Ilmare found she could not cough anymore, she took a deep breath and sat down, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. Water dripped down the ends of her hair, her dress sticking tightly to her skin.

Elrohir crouched by Ilmare's side, studying her face with concern. Her cheeks were tinged pink, the rest of her face pale as snow. He placed a hand on her shoulder, only to find that she was shaking. "We are _so_ sorry, Ilmare."

She said nothing, not even looking at him, only staring blankly ahead.

Arwen looked back and forth between her brother and Ilmare, her bottom lip jutting out. She feared the other girls reaction if her brother continued to be that close to her.

"Come on, Ilmare." She said, grabbing her elbow and pulling her off the ground. "Let's get to back to the halls."

Ilmare nodded weakly and hugged herself tightly, the cold of the water beginning to get to her, chilling the girl down to the bone.

The twins watched as their younger sister led Ilmare back to the halls of Greenwood, guiding her with a gentle hand on the small of her back. Elladan and Elrohir casted each other a look out of the corner of their eyes, guilt present upon their faces.

Legolas stood behind them, his feet still submerged, water dripping from his tunic. He watched as his friend slowly walked away, worry eating him up from the inside. He hoped she would be okay.

…

"Come along. We are nearly there." Arwen murmured to the girl beside her.

Ilmare simply nodded, her teeth chattering loudly. She felt as though she was getting colder with every moment that passed. She was still drenched and was unable to get warm while she was still wet and was not getting any dryer.

Ilmare had not spoken the entire walk back, thinking about how trapped she had felt underwater. She remembered the burning in her lungs, the weakness in her limbs, how the air was so close, yet she couldn't reach it. Her body quivered again, from the cold or the memory, she did not know.

Tamarthon, who was stationed at the front gates, watched as the two elflings approached slowly, looking with worry. He started towards the two girls, abandoning his post.

"What happened?" he questioned, looking at Ilmare who was shivering uncontrollable.

Arwen opened her mouth to answer, but Ilmare cut her off, speaking in a small voice.

"I f-fell into the r-river,"

Arwen concealed her confusion. She did not fall in; her brothers threw her in. Why was she lying? Why was Ilmare protecting Elladan and Elrohir?

Tamarthon's eyes buldged. "You fell in? Are you okay?"

Ilmare gave a tiny nod. "I am f-fine. Just c-cold, that is all."

"Let's get you warmed up," the warrior said, nodding towards the halls. "We do not want you to get sick."

Ilmare said nothing as she followed him through the gates, wanting to change out of her damp clothes, wrap herself in a fuzzy blanket, and sit in front of a fire… or perhaps in the fire. She really didn't care at the moment, just wanting to get warm fast. Arwen stood by her side, rubbing her arms in an attempt to cause friction. She, for some reason, felt responsible for her brother's actions. Arwen knew that they were careless, and enjoyed playing jokes, but they had taken it too far this time.

Tamarthon had led them as far as the royal hall. "Go get changed. I will send for Aerin to check on you later."

Ilmare gave him a wry smile of thanks before following Arwen past the heavy wooden doors into the hall. She wasted no time stepping into her room. Arwen started a fire while Ilmare peeled off her damp dress and threw it to the ground along with her just as wet under dress. She slipped into a new one and a thick nightdress meant for the colder months. Along with that, she put a robe over her shoulders and stripped the bed from the heavy quilt and wrapped it around herself before plopping in front of the fire place, sighing in relief as the heat radiated from the flames and onto her face.

"Is that better?" asked Arwen, sitting herself beside Ilmare. "Are you warm now?"

"Yes," Ilmare breath, leaning her head back as warmth seeped back into her limbs. "This is much better,"

They were silent for a while. Arwen looked over at Ilmare, who was watching the fire. She could see the golden flames reflecting in her deep blue eyes, a yellow glow upon her pale face.

"Why did you not tell that guard that my brothers threw you into the river?" asked Arwen at a length.

Ilmare looked over at the girl, furrowing her brows. "Do you wish for them to get into trouble?"

Arwen shook her head rapidly. "No, that is not it… but still, why?"

Ilmare exhaled loudly and looked back into the flames as she spoke. "I saw no reason to do so. Why get them into trouble? I- I am sure that they did not mean it…" she spoke the last part with uncertainty.

"Are you cross with my brothers?" asked Arwen, watching Ilmare's face carefully.

"I-" she stopped, pressing her lips together tightly before groaning in defeat. "I do not want to be… but for some reason, I am."

"You have a right to be," Arwen reasoned, placing a soft hand upon Ilmare's cloth covered shoulder. "There is no reason to be angry at yourself for it."

Ilmare said nothing and looked down at her lap, twiddling her thumbs nervously. Arwen didn't pry for any more information, not wanting to stress the tired girl.

They were alone for another few minutes before there was knocking at the door. Arwen stood and went to open it, wanting Ilmare to rest and not over exert herself. She opened the door and revealed a worried looking elleth, the queen and her mother standing there as well.

"She is in here," Arwen stated before any one of them could ask.

Ilmare watched as the three elleth swept into the room, Aerin quickly reaching her side and taking her face in her hands.

"Are you alright?" Aerin asked, seeing how Ilmare's nose and the tips of her ears were tinted pink. "How did it happen? Are you warmed up yet? Can you breathe alright? Are you-?"

"I am fine," Ilmare said, cutting off her endless babbling. "I just fell in, that is all."

"Ilmare," Melian said, taking a step closer to where she was seated in front of the fire. "You cannot swim. How did you get out?"

Ilmare smiled sheepishly. "Legolas got me out. If it was not for him, I would have drowned."

Celebrian raised a brow. "What were Elladan and Elrohir doing?"

"We were just walking," Ilmare shrugged. "I stepped too close to the edge, lost my footing, and slipped in." She met Arwen's eye, hoping that she was silently saying not to mention anything about what really happened.

"You should not be so careless," Aerin scolded, looking pointedly at Ilmare.

The elfling laughed with little humor. "I suppose you are right," Ilmare sniffed and then sneezed loudly.

"It would appear you are getting a cold," Melian pointed out as Ilmare wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "You should get some sleep,"

Ilmare nodded weakly, for she was weary and would not deny that she longed for rest.

"May you have a peaceful slumber, Ilmare." Aerin said as the elfling crawled into her bed, wrapping her blanket around herself tightly, snuggling into her mattress deeply.

Arwen followed her mother and the rest of the elleth out of the other elflings room. She casted one last look over her shoulder, seeing Ilmare's blanket coated back, her head hidden from sight. Arwen sighed deeply, looking at Ilmare with sadness. She could only hope that the other girl would eventually forgive her idiot brothers.

…

The others had only been gone from Ilmare's room for about five minutes, and she found that she could not fall asleep. Her mind was racing, the scene in the river playing in her mind over and over. Ilmare couldn't believe how close to death she had been… again! She cursed herself for being so weak.

She hid her face in the blankets, as if escaping from the shame. Ilmare stayed like that for a while, breathing in the scent of herself that clung to the sheets. She sniffed again, her nose stuffy and running at the same time.

Ilmare abruptly sat up at the sound of someone entering her room, wondering who would do that without knocking first. Her answer was quickly answered when she recognized the silhouette of Legolas, quickly making his way towards the edge of her bed.

"Ilmare," he breathed, getting on his knees on her side. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Ilmare reassured, sitting up and hanging her legs off the edge. "I am now, because of you."

Legolas sighed in relief and placed his forehead on the mattress. "Thank the Valar…"

"It is you I should be thanking, not the Valar." Ilmare said, tilting his face up so he was looking at her. "I would have drowned if you did not come when you did." She let out a light laugh. "I guess you really do save damsels in distress."

Legolas chuckled along with her for a moment before turning serious again. "You told everyone that you fell in. Why?"

Ilmare immediately turned more somber. She shrugged. "I did not want them to get in trouble. They are our guests."

"They get in trouble all the time!" Legolas countered. "This time would be no different."

Ilmare said nothing, only studying his face. She noticed he was still damp, not bothering to change out of his wet clothes. "Are you not cold?"

Legolas shook his head. "It is nothing." He fibbed, for he was rather cold.

Ilmare, of course, knew that he was not telling the truth. "Go get warm." She demanded. "Healers orders. We do not need two elflings with colds, do we?"

"You do know that you are not a full healer yet," Legolas argued, but stood anyways, a fond smirk upon his lips. "You still have to complete training."

"Healer-in-training's orders then!"

Legolas chuckled. "Alright. Get some rest, Ilmare. Feel better."

Ilmare laid her head down on a pillow, watching as Legolas walked out of the room. "Is that a Princeling's orders then?" she quipped.

"Goodnight, _thinnas._"

…

Ilmare was excused from training until she got over her cold. Andoiel would not allow her into the healing halls while she was_ Spreading Disease, _as the healer liked to call it.

So, Ilmare spent most of her time in her room, drawing, reading, doing whatever she could to pass time. It was rather boring most of the time, but it never stays like that.

It was dark out, the time being well past midnight. Ilmare sat on her bed, her legs tucked up beside her. A well worn book was in her hands, bound in thick, red leather. She had read it many times before, but never grew tired of it. She rubbed her thumb over the yellowing pages, the smell of old paper and ink wafting to her nose.

She was lost within the world in the book when frantic knocking roughly dragged her into reality. Ilmare made a face, not only annoyed, but curious as to who would be knocking on her door at this time of night. She marked her page and set the book down upon a pillow, padding over to the door on her tiptoes.

Ilmare turned the knob, opening the door a crack. Irritation flooded through her as she saw one of the twins standing outside her room. Ilmare still found herself angered at the brothers, though she did not want to be. They had not spoken since the day with the river, and that had been almost a week ago.

"What do you want?" she asked coolly, not opening the door all the way.

"Please, Ilmare." He said desperation deep with his voice. "It is Legolas. He is hurt."

This got her attention. Ilmare threw open the door without hesitation, revealing the other brother supporting an unconscious Legolas.

"Bring him in!" Ilmare ordered. The twins placed the prince upon the bed as Ilmare examined him.

Legolas was in a disheveled state, his clothes ripped and muddy, hair messy and filled with twigs and leaves, and a large red mark on his temple.

"What did you two do this time?" Ilmare questioned sharply, putting her hands on her hips.

"We were having a tree climbing contest," Elrohir told her. "Legolas was in the lead, but his foot slipped and he fell and hit his head on a branch."

"Are you sure you did not throw him off the tree?" said Ilmare bitterly before she could stop herself. She shook her head and examined Legolas more thoroughly. "You two always get up to so much trouble…" she fumed. "Do you not know not to challenge a wood elf in tree climbing? There is no way you could have won…"

The twins were silent as they watched Ilmare study Legolas, waiting what she would say. After a few more painfully quiet moments, Ilmare reached a verdict.

"He needs to be woken up," she told them. "I need to go get the smelling salts. Sit him up and keep his head elevated."

Ilmare said nothing more as she left her room in a hurry. She could only hope that the other healers were out of the healing halls by now and no one would ask her what she was doing out in the middle of the night in her sleeping dress and barefoot.

Ilmare was lucky. There was no one up, so she was easily able to slip into the healing room and rummage through the supplies, picking up a couple of different salts, just in case one did not work. Ilmare shut the door behind her softly as she hurried through the halls, wanting to get to her room as quickly as possible.

Ilmare entered her lodging, seeing that Elladan and Elrohir had done what she had asked and were both sitting next to Legolas, keeping the prince up right.

The girl said nothing as she opened the first jar of salts, waving it under Legolas' nose. There was no effect. Ilmare picked up the second one, but the result was the same.

"Why is nothing working?" Elladan asked.

Ilmare gave him a hard look that silenced the boy before turning back to her work. She opened the last container of salts. If this did not work, they would have to get Andoiel. Ilmare placed the strongly smelling salts under Legolas' nose. She held it there for a heartbeat and then he gasped and his eyes flew open. Legolas made a face and swatted the salts out of Ilmare's hand, getting it all over the floor.

"Legolas!" Ilmare cried is disdain, highly annoyed because she was going to have to clean that up.

Legolas blinked a few times, his vision clearing. There was a pounding in his head as memories of the events from before played out. The race, slipping, and the last thing he remembered was falling.

"Where am I?" he mumbled, his head spinning around to see his surroundings.

"In Ilmare's room," Elladan told him.

Legolas stopped searching around and paused, seeing that he was, in fact, in Ilmare's room. He took a deep breath and lowered his aching head into his hands. "What happened?"

"You were reckless," Ilmare answered. "You were passed out when these two brought you here. You must have hit your head."

Legolas laughed, and then cringed when his head hurt again. "That would explain this pounding in my head, wouldn't it?"

Ilmare gave a small smile before turning to the twins, an un-amused expression on her face. "Why did you bring him to me?" she asked. "There are much more skilled healers in Greenwood."

Elladan threw his hands up in the air. "I do not know! We panicked I guess…"

Ilmare pressed her lips together tightly and shook her head. "You two need to be more careful sometimes! One day, something will go very wrong and you will face the consequences! If you do not-"

"Ilmare!" Elrohir cut her off, looking at her desperately. "I know you are still angry with us, and tonight didn't make it any better, but we are asking for your forgiveness."

Ilmare stood frozen, tilting her head to the side. Elladan picked up where his brother left off when she did not speak.

"What we did to you was inexcusable," he continued slowly. "We put your life on the line, and it was too close of a call. We are _begging_ for you to forgive us… please."

The girl stood in shock for a few moments, her mouth hanging open stupidly. She was not expecting this from the twins. She did not know they felt that way.

Legolas watched the exchange out of the corner of his eye, studying Ilmare's expression carefully. Before they had begun the race, Elladan and Elrohir were telling him about the regret they felt about the episode with the river. They wanted to know the best way to apologize to her. Legolas had laughed and told them that it was nearly impossible for Ilmare to hold a grudge.

"I- I, uhm…" Ilmare stuttered.

"Please?" Elrohir said, pouting his lips slightly in hopes that it would help their cause.

Ilmare rolled her eyes and sighed in defeat. "Fine. You are forgiven."

"Good," said Elrohir, opening his arms. "A hug to close the deal?"

Ilmare couldn't help the smirk that grew on her lips. "Sounds fair enough." She gently placed her arms around the elflings middle, resting her head on his shoulder. Elrohir hugged the girl back, throwing his hands around her waist. He watched as Elladan walked up to them.

"I am forgiven as well?"

"Yes, Elladan." Ilmare laughed and hugged him back as she did to his brother.

Legolas thought that the display of affection was lasting a bit too long for his liking. The prince cleared his throat loud, efficiently breaking the pair apart. "Will I be alright? Is there anything I need to do differently?"

Ilmare walked over and studied his eyes, making sure that they were focused and clear. She placed her hand on the side of his face and smiled reassuringly. "You will be fine, my dear Princeling." She smirked and poked the red mark on his forehead, causing the prince to hiss in pain. "But you will have a nasty bruise."

"Thank you, _thinnas_."

"It was no problem, princeling." Ilmare paused and looking at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should start saving damsels in distress now."

Legolas did not find this joke funny.

**Authors note:**

**It has taken me longer than usual to update and for that, I apologize. School has started up yet again and I do not know how much I will be able to update from now on. I go to an IB school which means there is a lot of rigorous work to do every day, but I will try to write when I can.**

**I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed and followed and favorited so far.**

**Lady Rose of the Fandoms: I am glad you are enjoying this story so far! As for my other stories, I felt as though they were going nowhere and I found that I really wasn't enjoying writing them anymore. I am happy to know that someone enjoyed them while they lasted! Sorry about that!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**4 years later…**

"Stop twitching!" Ilmare ordered sharply, wrinkling her nose after being smacked in the face by Aerin's skirts for the umpteenth time as the elleth wiggled in her spot while Ilmare attempted to smooth her creamy colored dress.

"Sorry!" Aerin said, planting her feet firmly in an attempt to quit moving. She looked apologetically at the elfling kneeling down behind her. "I will try harder!"

Ilmare made a face and blew a stray strand of her auburn hair out of her eyes. She, although still an elfling, looked sixteen now. This was a long stage for growing elflings, apearing between sixteen and twenty until they come of age, not quite a child nor an adult. Ilmare had grown slightly taller through the years, growing fairer with every day. She was already one of the best healers they had in Greenwood, and still training! As the elfling matured, she became closer with Aerin, who was now her closest friend next to Legolas.

"I hope you do!" Ilmare huffed as she stood; fixing her own gown now, straightening the long, forest green skirt. It was her favorite dress and wore it expecially for this occation. "You are going to make yourself sick if you keep worrying like this!"

Aerin sighed loudly and dropped her arms limply to her side. "I cannot help it! Why don't you try staying calm before your wedding ceremony!" the elleth wanted to run her hands through her hair, but resisted, not wanting the braids that they had so carefully weaved to become messed up.

Ilmare rolled her eyes playfully and slid in front of her friend, taking her clammy hands into her own. She studied the elleths face, noticing that even when stress, she looked absolutely beautiful. The candle light from the room stressed the angles of her face, her eye lashes casting long, dark shadows upon her cheeks.

"What is there to worry about?" Ilmare asked, giving a small smile when Aerin looked up from the floor and met her eyes. "You and Tamarthon are deeply in love and will live in happiness together for the rest of your immortal lives."

Aerin was suddenly very interested in the sleeves of her gown, picking at a stray thread.

"Hey!" Ilmare exclaimed, slapping at Aerin's hands. "That is a beautiful dress! Do not go on ruining it!"

_It really is a lovely dress,_ Aerin decided, studying it. The sleeves were long and flowing, reaching almost to the ground. The bodice was stitched with gold thread, a belt of the same color around her waist. There was a swooping neckline, exposing a bit of her shoulders. Around her neck, Aerin wore a silver chain with a charm in the shape of a leaf dangling just above her collar bones.

"Take some deep breaths," Ilmare encouraged, nodding her head slightly. "It is about time to go. You will be okay, I promise you."

Aerin exhaled loudly and gave a curt, determined nod. Ilmare was sure that the elleth was calmed down now, but she was mistaken, for Aerin then groaned loudly and slapped her thighs in frustration.

"What if I say something wrong?" she exclaimed and began pacing around the room. Aerin brought her hand to her mouth and began chewing her finger nails. "What if I can't say anything at all? Even the royal family is going to be there! Why would they care about me? I am just a servant…"

Ilmare feared that she was going to be sick any moment. She firmly planted herself in front of the elleth, making her accursed pacing cease.

"Aerin, you must calm down!" Ilmare's brows furrowed. "The royal family is going to be there, that is a fact. It is not every day elves hold a binding ceremony!" she placed a hand on her hip and pointed at Aerin's nose sharply. "Now, you are going to get married and you are going to like it!" she tried to remain serious, but couldn't help the smirk that crept on her lips.

Aerin laughed loudly, this being something she used to say to Ilmare whenever she complained about anything. Ilmare chuckled along, bringing her friend into an embrace.

"You can make me get married," Aerin mumbled. "But you cannot make me like it!"

The elleth felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, the small joke making the tension in her shoulders lessen.

Ilmare broke the hug, locking her arms with Aerin. "Better now?" when the elleth nodded, Ilmare smiled in satisfaction. "Wonderful. Let's go get you married, shall we?"

…

Ilmare kept a light conversation with Aerin as they walked to where the ceremony will be taking place. She made small jokes and retold old stories, just to keep Aerin's mind off the wedding for now. But as they continued on their way, the pit of burning nervousness in the pit of the elleths stomach grew.

Aerin gnawed at her lip and swallowed hard as their destination came into view.

_Enter from the side,_ Aerin said to herself._ Stop before Tamarthon, and then just do what you know you have to._

"Almost there," Ilmare murmured to Aerin, squeezing her hand. She saw Tamarthon standing in front of many elves, speaking lightly to the king, who was there to bless the union. Ilmare felt Aerin tense and come to one last stop just before the entrance.

"How do I look?" Aerin asked, smoothing the front of her skirts.

Ilmare looked at her friends face, Aerin's forehead wrinkling as she furrowed her brows.

"Absolutely stunning," Ilmare smiled, nudging her forward towards the door.

Aerin took one last deep breath before making her entrance, taking slow, deliberate steps towards her soon to be mate.

Tamarthon grinned broadly as he spotted Aerin making her way towards him, positively glowing with beauty, her dress fitting her perfectly. He noted the slight flush in her cheeks, how Aerin was nibbling on her lip. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, knuckles bright white. Ilmare was walking gracefully behind her, a small smile upon her lips.

Aerin came to a slow stop in front of Tamarthon, Ilmare continuing to walk past, coming to a halt beside Legolas.

The elf prince had grown tremendously in the few short years since Elrond and his family had visited. He was tall, slender, and strong, becoming more skilled with a bow and twin swords than many of his elders already. His hair brushed in between his shoulder blades, almost always tied back in the style of a warrior. He was garbed in one of his best sliver tunic, a shiny circlet resting just above his brow. He smirked down at Ilmare.

"I would assume Aerin is nervous," Legolas murmured, his voice barely audible as his father recited a few lines in Quenya, ancient words to call upon the gods to bless the elves before him.

"Beyond nervous," Ilmare whispered, leaning slightly closer. "I feared she was going to faint after a few steps into the hall,"

Legolas muffled his laughter behind his hand, discreetly turning it into a cough. The two elflings stayed silent for the rest of the time while the king spoke, watching Aerin and Tamarthon with fond smirks playing on their lips.

"May the Valar bless this union," finished Thranduil after a lengthy speech. The king bowed his head, as well as the rest of the elves watching the ceremony, looking at the ground, as custom for the couple to have a moment of privacy while they made their binding official.

This was when Aerin and Tamarthon were supposed to exchange vows, words of love, anything of that sort… but Aerin's practice words caught in her throat. She even found it hard to look at the elf before her.

"What is wrong?" Tamarthon questioned, brows furrowed. He tilted her chin up, meeting her wide eyes.

"I-I am scared." She whispered in a small voice. "I love you so much, but I am scared of disappointing you. There are so many other elleth that are far more worthy of you… I am a simple maid."

"What are you on about, Aerin?" he asked, holding her face in his hands, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone lightly. "No one else matters. You are the one who I love, not anyone else."

Aerin gave a watery smile and gave a breezy laugh, shaking her head slightly. "Oh, I am such a fool. I love you so much, Tamarthon. I had I whole speech planned out, you know, but I seem to have forgotten it."

"It matters not," he assured, sliding his hands to her waist. "All that is important is that we will be together for the rest of eternity."

Aerin nodded, water cascading from her eyes down her cheek. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes."

Tamarthon smiled and kissed her lips sweetly, only for a second, before pressing their foreheads together. Aerin was grinning broadly, looking up in wonder at her mate. They brought their lips together one more time before kneeling before the king. Thranduil raised his head from the ground, the rest of the elves in the room following suit. He placed his hands gently upon their heads.

"May their days be blessed," he murmured deeply.

"May their days be blessed," his subjects repeated after the king, their voices echoing off the walls and ceiling.

"Now, rise, my children." Thranduil commanded, motioning for Aerin and Tamarthon to stand.

The couple laced their fingers together and they stood and faced the crowd. Their faces matched in broad grins as the elves before them cheer and hollered. Behind them, Ilmare clapped her hands together and cried out in joy, Legolas cupping his hands around his mouth and calling out his master's name.

"Let us celebrate!" Thranduil announced over the noise of the crowd. "The newly binded couple!"

…

Ilmare raced to her friend the moment the ceremony was finished, throwing her arms around her small frame.

"Congratulations!" she cried, squeezing Aerin shoulders with all her might. "I am so happy for you!"

"Thank you, my friend." Aerin gasped out, trying to pry her vice-like grip off her body. "Perhaps if you let go, I can enjoy my happiness for a bit longer."

"My apologies," Ilmare said hurriedly, detangling herself from Aerin. She grinned at her friend, her cheeks hurting. "It is just so wonderful!" Ilmare exclaimed, using her hands for emphasis. From behind the happy couple, she saw a small crowd of well wishers and knew she would have to let them speak with her. She would see Aerin soon enough. With one last heart filled congratulations, Ilmare slid past the sea of elves to the side of the room, watching others merrily drink, laugh and dance around the room, spinning and twirling in bright colors.

Ilmare sat herself on a small stone ledge with a huff, watching with a smirk as the festivities ensued. She tapped the tip of her toe to the beat of the lively music, laughing softly to herself as she watched some older elves try to woo young elleths, but failing miserably.

"Hopeless, aren't they?" a voice sounded suddenly off to her left, causing Ilmare to start. Her head pivoted towards the voice, laying eyes on Amandal, leaning lazily on the wall beside her, watching the crowd.

"Amandal!" Ilmare breathed, putting a hand over her racing heart. She followed his gaze to the clueless elves. "Why would you say that? They seem to be trying rather hard."

"That is true," agreed the young elf, nodding his head and dragging his weight off the wall and shifting it beside Ilmare on the ledge. "But they are not succeeding."

Ilmare scooted away from Amandal a few inches, wrinkling her nose as the obvious smell of the pungent Greenwood wine reached her senses. She studied the young elf out of the corner of her eye, seeing the goblet of alcohol in his hand, swirling it around lazily. Elves his age usually drank more than their fill of wine, not yet wise enough to know when they have hit their limit. He was a fine example of one who was past his peak.

"You see," Amandal said softly, bringing the cup to his lips and taking a long, slow draught of his wine. "They are going about it all wrong."

Ilmare raised a brow. "And you know better?" she found that hard to believe that he could do any better, still being just out of childhood in the eyes of their people.

He nodded, taking another large gulp of his wine, making a face and smacking his mouth as it slipped down his throat. He eyed the dark liquid for a heartbeat before holding it out to Ilmare. "Would you like some?" he asked, his words slurring together slightly.

Ilmare rapidly shook her head, holding out a hand. "Absolutely not!" she cried, horrified at the idea. Elves that were under age were forbidden to have wine or alcohol of any kind. Ilmare briefly wondered how drunk Amandal was.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

Ilmare made a face a few droplets of wine dribbled down his chin. She stood abruptly, smoothing down her skirts. "I will-uhm, be right back," she lied unsteadily.

Amandal gave a tiny wave, smiling with heavily lidded eyes. He rested the back of his head on the wall, hugging himself tightly and dozing off, snuggling close to his precious goblet.

Ilmare made one last distasteful look before swiftly turning away, weaving through the crowd of jovial elves. She caught glimpses of Aerin and Tamarthon dancing together at the center of the party, both laughing and smiling ear to ear. It made Ilmare glad to see her close friend so happy.

Ilmare quickly scanned the room, looking for somewhere with less people. She spotted Legolas standing off to the side, talking calmly with his father, his silver circlet shining in the dim, yellow candle light. She made her way to the young prince, her movements resembling that of a cat or a fox. She planned to sneak up on him, give him a start. Ilmare snuck up behind him, wondering if this would be the first time she would succeed in scaring the prince. She had attempted it many times before but he always caught her before she got the chance to even get within a few feet of him. Ilmare hoped that because of the noise, she would have the advantage.

Ilmare was close now. All she had to do reach out and grab his sides. He used to be ticklish there when they were younger. Ilmare fondly remembered how she would torture him. Of course, it had been some time since she had tried it, but she hoped it still worked.

Ilmare gasped as she suddenly found her feet knocked out from underneath her. Her arms wheeled around her as she tumbled towards the ground. Ilmare's breath left her as her body jolted as she was caught by her wrist. Her deep blue eyes followed the hand tightly holding her to the smirking face of the Greenwood prince.

"Nice try, _thinnas_." He said, his eyes gleaming. He easily hauled her to her feet, as if she weighed no more than a feather. "You should know by now that you cannot scare me."

Ilmare smoothed her wrinkled skirts and firmly placed her hands on her hips, raising a brow. "Was it absolutely necessary to trip me, princeling?"

Legolas feigned thoughtfulness, softly tapping his chin with his finger. He nodded firmly, looking rather pleased with himself. "Yes, actually. I do think so."

"Well _I _do not," Thranduil added off to the side, a distasteful look upon his face. He looked down at Ilmare, making the elfling feel very small. He was dressed regally, wearing fine robes, his crown resting softly on his light hair. Legolas cringed at his father scolding.

"It is not respectable for the prince to be seen knocking a girl to the ground." Thranduil said breezily, turning his attention away from the two elflings.

Legolas looked at Ilmare sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "My apologies," he murmured. "It was not proper of me." He looked at Ilmare from the corner of his eye, giving her a sideways grin. "Why don't we take a walk? It will probably be quieter."

Ilmare casted a look around at the quickly growing number of intoxicated elves. They were all off balance, wobbling around the dance floor, the elleth hanging onto the men, using them for support, because their legs have suddenly become useless. Ilmare nodded, grinning broadly up at Legolas.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea."

Legolas nodded towards the direction of the door quickly heading that way, Ilmare in his wake. They were almost to the door, but their path was cut off by two tipsy, red faced elves.

"Where are you going so soon?" Aerin slurred, swaying unsteadily. "You have not even danced yet!"

Legolas held up a hand a shook his head. "We have no desire to dance tonight."

Tamarthon scoffed and slung an arm over his mates' waist. "That is ridiculous. You must dance!" he pointed sternly at Legolas when he opened his mouth to argue. "That is an order, young prince." The elf shoved Legolas into the throng of dancers, Aerin doing the same to Ilmare.

The pair stumbled for a moment, but quickly regained their footing. Ilmare swallowed hard and narrowed her eyes at Aerin, who was laughing hard. She felt extremely awkward standing there, her chest constricting uncomfortably. Legolas, quickly noting her state, knew that there was only one thing to do. He made a low, sweeping bow, hoping to make her feel more easy, knowing laughing usually did the trick.

Of course, this made Ilmare grin broadly and do an over dramatic curtsy of her own in response. They mimicked the stances of the elves around them as the music began for a traditional Greenwood dance that they had seen many times before. To someone watching, it was easy to tell that they felt awkward standing so close together, their stances stiff and rigid in comparison to the flowing, free-flowing movements of the others around them.

Legolas, not entirely enjoying the silence between them, spoke up as the music began, his feet automatically began moving, and performing the moves he had learned since he could walk.

"I believe I should apologize again for tripping you," he said, not breaking eye contact with Ilmare. "My father was correct, it was not proper of me."

Ilmare eyes darted over his shoulder for a brief second, catching a glimpse of Thranduil, who was watching them dance with his lips pressed together tightly. She looked back at Legolas, smiling shyly.

"I think your father just does not like me, that is all."

Legolas raised a brow at her statement. "I am sure that is untrue."

Ilmare scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Is that what you think, dear princeling?" she laughed, tossing her head back slightly as she did. "I do not believe he even knows my name!" the girl exclaimed, earning a chuckle from her companion.

"I am sure he does…" Legolas reasoned, still laughing.

"Oh, really?" Ilmare questioned, smirking. "I do not think he has ever called me by my name. It is either _girl_ or _child_!"

"Perhaps by the time you are of age he will know that it is _thinnas!" _Legolas jested, making Ilmare scrunch up her face in feigned annoyance and stick out her tongue in a child-like way. They laughed together as the music reached its end and they slowed to a stop, now more relaxed than they had been at the beginning.

The last drawn out note echoed through the hall as the elves bowed to each other before clapping and cheering for the talented minstrels.

Legolas and Ilmare never did end up going on a walk. Instead, they chose to dance together until there was no more music left to play and their feet ached with weariness.

**Authors note:**

**Yes, I am alive! First weeks of school have been crazy! Add volleyball on top of hours of homework a night, I couldn't find time to update. For my birthday, I will be getting a new laptop which I will be able to take to school with me, because the one I have now is really old and heavy. So I will be able to write during my free periods.**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter, it was kind of a filler, because I didn't want a huge time jump and I thought a wedding would be cute.**

**Don't forget to review! **


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